I can't get over it. Seems like just yesterday I was spending my days wrapped about the john, tossing my cookies (and saltines ... and gingersnaps ... and tuna casserole ...), wearing maternity clothes, pondering how to decorate a room, thrilling over ultrasounds ... and then I went into labor and since then it's been a blur. Because I had her at 4 a.m., we checked out about 30 hours later. Didn't see a reason to stay in the hospital if all was well, but it feels like I popped her out, slept a little, then went home. And from then on it all just flew by.
She's rolling around. She's babbling. She adores the exersaucer. She gets distracted and looks around while eating. She chews on her toes. She's just the cutest thing and we're all under her spell.
But MAN! Why does she have to grow so fast?!
She's my last baby, and it feels like her babyness is already fading. I feel like I didn't have enough time with my snuggly, warm, dependent little newborn. My kids just pop out way too strong and independent. I love that and respect that about them, but it really gyps me out of enjoying their smallness.
My sweet girl. If she follows her brother's timeline very closely she'll be pulling up to standing within the month and crawling within the next six weeks. Given her ability to hold herself in a standing position for a long, steady time, and the fact that she can already scooch all over the place when we lay her on the floor, I won't be surprised at all. But I'll sure miss her sweet little bobbly-baby body that leans into mine, her face nestled into my neck, her little hands kneading into my skin.
So sad that they have to grow so quickly. And yet so exciting all at the same time.