You know those baby books, the ones that breed like rabbits? “Everything your baby will do, exactly when” and “The Guide to Every Baby type?”
They may have some help or guidance in them, but for me, they were a wash.
I remember joking that my daughter* must have learned to read in utero, read the books, and said, “I’m not doing any of that!”
So, we forged ahead, in an age before the internet, doing our best to figure things out as we went along. Smiles – early. Talking – a bit late. Walking – early. Personality – in droves!
We later – much later – learned that our daughter is a bit neurodiverse. Just how much, I’m honestly not sure. Some kids fall through the cracks as they compensate to function in a world not built for them.
So we rolled with things. Opened up her world where it was appropriate for her, and sheltered her where that was needed.
Shea’s an adult now, and a bright, kind, funny, creative human being. Maybe not what we expected when we were expecting, but an absolute delight nonetheless.
*I consulted with my daughter about being mentioned in this, and other posts, and have her express, specific permission. She's a pretty wonderful person.