Day 3 Seven Months Later

It has been exactly 7 months since I wrote my account of <a href="">the dreaded Day Three</a>. So much has transpired since.
Anne is now a sprightly young girl who has since learned a great many things. Her immobility has been replaced by a lightning quick leopard crawl, with which she chases down runaway toys, faraway power outlets and any nearby remote controls. A visit to the doctor a few days ago revealed that Anne's weight is in the 75th percentile while her height is in the 25th percentile. It is nice that medical jargon tries to cushion the fact that Anne is <del>short and fat</del> <ins>cute</ins>.
My own life has undergone many changes. With the new 9 to 5 I have become a more Ricky Ricardo (Desi Arnaz in "I Love Lucy") kind of husband, where once I was more of a Tony Micelli (Tony Danza in "Who's the Boss"). When Anne first arrived, it was hard to put a halt on the career. Oddly enough, trading being with Anne for the career feels like I am trading the wonder of watching her grow up for the cold hard reality of having to be pragmatic.
Like all good hollywood fighter pilots, I have Faith and Anne's photo in front of me at my desk. But everytime I look at Anne's picture I am reminded of how fast she is changing – that the photo I have of her is dated; that she is growing up as I am at work.

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