"So it's kinda like starting a blog, then?" I replied.
Eight days into parenthood, certain differences between babies and blogs have become clear. Babies do not talk incessantly about themselves. Blogs do not provoke your friends to send you items bearing the face of Elmo. Babies do not care what Maureen Dowd or David Brooks have to say about the world. Blogs do not poop constantly, except maybe Little Green Footballs. Both babies and blogs cut into the time I might otherwise spend watching TV, but only blogs believe that this represents a revolution.
Maya got a clean bill of health at the pediatrician's today, so we've made it through at least one week without completely fouling up our parental responsibilites and ruining our daughter for life. Now all we have to do is keep it up for 17 years, 50 weeks, and six days.