The youngest in our family has reached another milestone.
I’m sorry for not telling you yesterday.
She is so close to rolling over it’s ridiculous.
She is just starting to fit into 3-6 month clothes.
(Which I think is perfect; I love when sizes and ages match up.)
For the most part, she is a very content baby.
She’s a very, very fast eater. Nothing like Ben was.
She seems bigger everyday to me.
She still loves her swing.
(And I am grateful, otherwise I wouldn’t get anything done!)
She is the most social baby I have ever been around.
I’m not exaggerating.
She will talk and talk and talk.
The minute anyone gives her attention she is all smiles.
She is a beauty.
(In my humble opinion.)
She has the most perfect skin. Not a flaw to be found.
I formerly had the flawless skin.
Then she was born.
I must have given it to her or something.
Someone told me once that for each baby you have you lose/change something.
When I had Charlotte it was my ears.
Now when I go in a plane or up in the mountains, I’m the one chewing gum and swallowing trying to get my ears to pop.
I can’t pinpoint one specific thing that changed when I had Ben,
but my recovery after having him was horrible.
I’m sure that counts.
And now, Elizabeth Sue.
And my used-to-be-perfect-skin.
I could almost cry.
She’s more than worth it, though.
I am still holding out for it to clear up when I’m finished nursing.
If not, it’s on to more drastic measures…
Libby is three months old and:
*I haven’t gotten her pictures taken. This literally breaks my heart.
*I haven’t sewed any onesies for her.
*I haven’t gotten into a routine that keeps the house picked up/laundry put away/dishes done.
*I haven’t lost my “baby weight”. I’m not sure I can even call it that anymore.
*I haven’t written like 5 or 6 thank you notes that are rudely overdue.