Three Month Love Affair

It's that magical time of night. Buzzy snoozes upstairs, and we turn our undivided attention to Facebook, the laundry, the baby. She gets to be an only child for a couple of hours each evening. They say the second gets shortchanged on attention, which may be true, but I will say that I am savoring her sweet babyhood more than I did her sister's. Partly it's because there's a good chance she's our last baby. Partly it's because we have seen what comes next, and two is tough. But, mostly it's because she's just a doll. It's much easier to enjoy her than to write about her, but I need to record some of this before it disappears into sleep deprived oblivion.

This one smiles so easily, and has already chuckled a couple of times. She has lots of punky black hair that stick up, and ears that stick out (in a very cute way). She thinks she can talk already and coo's and oooh's right along to our conversations. She squeaks a lot in her sleep. She rolled over tonight (already!), for the first time. She still grips an offered finger in her little paws. Her eyes are blue blue blue. Unlike Buzzy, she isn't addicted to her pacifier. All of the doctors have commented on how strong she is, since day one at the hospital right on through to her shots last week. She's growing long, all too fast.

My doctor commented on how very pink she was when she was born, so I think I’ll call her Rosie on this blog. In real life, she's named for my mother--who informed me that her name was actually Rose for a while, until my grandmother changed her mind. (And neglected to inform anyone official, so my mom discovered it when she applied for her first passport and needed a copy of her birth certificate. But that's another story. Needless to say, Rosie works on a number of levels, and the poor child has a rich family history of nuttiness, which you already knew if you read this blog).

At some other time, I will record my battle involving the double stroller and the trunk of my car, the challenges of feeding one baby as the other one strips off her diaper and announces she has to go potty and needs help NOW, and the fun family times reading Those Can Do Pigs above the shrieks of an irate three month old. But, tonight, in the baby's first dedicated post, I will simply say that she's a joy and we are smitten.