The results of neglect.

As the youngest child, I regularly heaped truckloads of guilt upon my parents about the fact that I had no papers.  No artwork.  No footprints, for heavens sake – how do you not keep the FOOTPRINTS from the hopital?

Last night, Grace had a weak moment or two when she found several boxes of memntoes from Andra’s baby hours.  “Where are MY boxes?” “Don’t you even love me?” You know, the basics of the last child neglect. 

To appease her, I dug through and found one of her boxes.  Much to her dismay, here is what we found: Daycare notes home about her behaviour.

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