Kate wants us to start a baby box.
Essentially a shoebox filled with assorted odds and ends that'll help us remember we have a child in case we somehow forget. (Guessing it'll live on the top shelf of the closet nestled between our cassette tape box and our ribbon box.)
Apparently, there's not a lot of evidence Kate existed as a baby. Very few pictures. No bronzed baby shoes. No locks of hair.
She blames it on her status of being the second child, just not as fawned over as the first. And it's not only her, it seems to happen to most younger siblings we know.
But, by this logic, I figure we should probably skip the baby box for the first kid altogether. That way the second kid will at least have a sporting chance.
Because as far as I'm concerned, if we ever have another child, this whole blog is just gonna be copied and pasted.
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