Working Mom and I make babies with lots of hair and, it would seem, curvy feet. For the second time in just as many babies, three months of weekly foot casts have been prescribed for metatarsals that meta when they’re supposed to tarse (or something like that).
And lo, the Blueberry got to visit the same casting room and the same three bone techs who’d fallen in love with her sister two years ago.
And therein, at just three months, you see another stark difference between Blue’s personality and her older sister’s. (Do three-month old babies even have personalities? Um, yep.) Boobaby was pretty chill about getting the casts; she would flirt with the techs for a while but soon started to fuss. Pout. Scream.
But the Blueberry? She fell asleep, right in the middle of the whole thing.
How did we get such different kids out of the same genes?