It seems appropriate that just as I'm about to sit down to write my first post, my daughter, who is 1-1/2, has decided to take off her clothes.
Since she is my fourth child, I know better than to wonder why she wants to remove her clothes. As a child, the removal of clothes is something similar to adults scratching their head; it starts with a subconscious urge, then a conscious nagging, and before you've had a chance to analyze why you're scratching, or which hand should execute the scratch, you've ... well, you've already done it. And so here stands my daughter, completely naked, after yanking, tugging and wrestling out of her pink footed pajamas first, then her diaper. She smiles at me as if to say, "Didn't I do a great thing?" She is cradling her baby doll, who is also completely naked.
As she turns to leave the room, I get an unabashed view of her baby bottom. As this is my first post, I'd like to wax philosophical about how the art of blogging makes me unsure, makes me feel naked and exposed; how I'm stepping as a child into a world yet unknown to me. But that would be self-indulgent.
Besides, I'm the Mommy. If there's a diaper-less baby in the house, there's a good chance I'm going to need a mop soon.
