This week my daughter, “Pink”, is officially 19 months old. (Where do I step on the brakes?!) While I’m constantly finding new reasons to adore her, the latest is her awesome toddler belly. (And the bedhead isn’t bad either, right?)
It’s not that her belly’s that big (though it’s not that small, either), it’s the way she walks with it on display. There’s no stopping it. She acts as though her belly is her compass. Where it leads, she’ll follow.
Also? That thing takes on a life of its own when she eats. Last Saturday, as we headed out of the house for a family night out, we buttoned up her rain jacket and hit the road. After a lovely dinner, we (attempted) to put her jacket back on, and you know what? It wouldn’t button. In a matter of 45 minutes, her middle had expanded by about an inch.
The good news is, her big ol’ belly didn’t bother her a bit. Quite the opposite, really. She stuck it way out there (out of the jacket and out in front), and strutted her way up and down the streets as we toured a Christmas-light extravaganza.
And as I was sucking my three-kids-later-thirty-something tummy in, I couldn’t help but admire Pink’s belly confidence. May she always walk with such pride.