Karma

I fear I will have a fat baby.

I know it shouldn't bother me, but for some reason I get slightly repulsed at the sight of a really fat baby*. I mean, I know they're precious and I know there is nothing wrong with them and I know most fat babies grow up to be beautiful, average-weight (if not downright skinny) individuals. Their infant obesity is nothing abnormal and not any sign of over-indulgence. I'm not judging anyone. I guess I just find it oddly fascinating - like a car accident, I suppose. I can't help but stare in morbid awe, captivated by the large rolls I find both minutely off-putting and humorous at the same time.

And because of this minor revulsion at the abnormally chubby ones, I have this inner feeling God will choose to build compassion in me the hard way.

Emmett is packing on the pounds and while he's not fat yet, he's definitely much pudgier than he was at birth. I know this is normal but I see chub in our future. And on that note, our daughter, while also not fat, is quite stout - she outgrows her clothes in width before she does so in length.

And I love her. And I love my Emmett. And I wouldn't trade either of them for the world's skinniest babies and I know even if/when Emmett himself could be easily confused for a marshmallow with a face I won't even notice because my eyes will only ever see the most adorable baby boy on the planet.

I'm just saying.

*I understand some mothers of fat babies may feel offended by my feelings but please know, I still love all babies - and I don't think fat equals ugly. I simply find it fascinating to see so many pounds on such a little person.