Not it

When Maren was a baby, I used any excuse in the book to put her picture on my blog. I realized the other day that her cute little face has been mighty scarce 'round these parts of late, so here she is. And yeah, that's a Halloween outfit. I know it's still summer-- wanna make something of it?

Tough talk from me, right? I'm not the only one talking tough these days. The main difference between my first child and my fourth child at twenty months is that my first child (who was still an only child at that point) believed the whole world revolved around him. His parents catered to his every whim, lying down with him at bedtime, never eating out at restaurants where he couldn't get his food immediately, reading him dozens of books each day. The fourth child, on the other hand, knows what it's like to be part of a crowd. More importantly, she knows how to shirk blame. Last night at dinner, Eddie was asking the kids about their day. "Who got 100 on their spelling test?" Annie raised her hand and said, "me!" Maren raised her hand and proudly shouted, "Not me! Not me!" It's her new catch phrase.

"Who made this mess?"
"Not me!"
"Who took off this poopy diaper?"
"Not me!"

She's been deflecting attention from herself so well that I guess I forgot to put up pictures of her. Another peril of being a fourth child, I guess...