Milo Contemplates His Future Profile

One of the first things people say when they meet a baby for the first time is, "He looks like you", or, "He looks like his dad," or, "He looks like the mailman." There is endless discussion over whose eyes he has and what color his hair will be and, particularly in Jewish families, whose nose he has inherited.

Since Milo's birth the majority of the world (i.e. my family and Steven's family) have been in agreement that he looks like my side of the family. Some people say he looks like me, other say he looks like my brother (see above) or my father. (Please God, don't make me raise my father.) But the truth is that he looks totally different every day; every morning when I see him in his crib I'm greeted by a face that looks slightly different from the one I kissed good night the evening before.

I recently sent my father some pictures of Milo and he emailed me back asking, "Does he have red hair?"

"He did that day," I replied.

Part of the problem is that babies look like babies. When I went to my OB's office for my 6 week post partum check up I found myself staring at a picture of a baby on her wall and thinking, that looks exactly like Milo! How did she get a picture of him in here? When it dawned on me that it wasn't a picture of Milo at all, or maybe it was, the fact was that I had absolutely no idea what my baby looked when shown in comparison to a sea of other babies.

And of course, what people usually mean when they say "He looks like X" is one of two things:

1. I want to make a pleasant comment about your baby.

2. I'm wondering what kind of human being your baby is going to turn out to be.

In the mean time, I'm trying to stop thinking about who Milo looks like. He may end up with my eyes or Steven's nose, but ultimately he's just going to look like Milo.