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My baby actually looks like a strange love child between my sister and my husband. It’s really funny.
My twins—my baby girls, they look more like their father. It’s very weird because in public everyone asks me, “Oh, whose babies are those?” It’s a little heartbreaking.
My five-month-old looks just like me. Dimples and all. Literally.
My son looks more like me according to me. I think he has my eyes and my smile. But leave it up to his dad, he looks like him.
My toddler looks more like my husband, I think, and his family, but my nine-month-old, I think, is all me. And I love it.
When it comes to who he looks the most like, I really have to say it’s a combination if I’m able to—if I don’t have to go one or the other. I think he has his mom’s top half and then my bottom half of his face.
He has my facial features. He really—the only thing he has of my husband is his head shape. But even his feet are like mine. His mannerisms are like mine. And I’m pretty ecstatic about that.
My son actually looks like me. He has my eyebrows, my eyes, my facial structure. It really doesn’t matter who he looks like as long as that he’s here and healthy and well.
My son looks more like my husband. And I’m okay with that because my husband looks nice as well.