Whose Baby WINS?

So. Apparently Alyssa Milano's baby was talking at four months.

And Jessica Simpson's nine-month-old can whistle.

And Beyonce's Blue Ivy is some sort of child genius prodigy thing. I can't remember which variety of genius she is, exactly. because I Actually. Do. Not. Care.

I have never felt at all competitive on Tiger's behalf. At all.

So your baby slept through the night at two months? Yay for you!

So your son was disco dancing at six months? Awesome! Good job little Bee Gee!

So your daughter could read Beowulf at one? Excellent! Can she translate it for me?

Tiger will do things in her own sweet little time. And I will periodically check with the GP to make sure that her own sweet little time fits on some sort of curve and we don't need to be worried.

Meanwhile, I will feel joy in my heart when she is fascinated by a grasshopper, or squeals with delight when she first tries creamed corn. And when she smiles as I kiss her fuzzy little head, I will feel happier than ever before. Not because she is Winning At Being A Baby, but because her happiness is more important to me than any achievements.

I will also never enter her in the Bonds Baby Search. Because I gave birth to a human being, not a doll.

And that human being is doing just fine, on her own little time frame.

In fact, she's lovely.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x