What's in a name
It is time for the story of Rylie's birth. She is officially 3 months (and 4 days) old, and is spunky and squeaky and adorable and when she offers you a smile or a giggle you cannot help but feel like every single thing is going to be okay. She is laying next to me right now, deciding if she wants to keep her pacifier in her mouth (turns out she's not much of a binky baby, she'd much rather chew on the side of her hand or hold on to the edge of a blanket) and farting up a storm. She doesn't barf on me nearly as much as her brother did, but she makes up for it in farts. Sometimes I am truly surprised that she doesn't just rocket herself right out of her swing, or bed, or whatever she's in when the small eruption happens. Before I delve into this story let me say, this was my experience as I recall it 3 months later. I feel like it should go without saying, but you just never know with people on the internet anymore, but birthing a child is a pretty intimate pr
