Her cord came off on day five, just after we left the midwives (of course) and more firsts come and go. I still can't honestly look at her and say never again, although my hips are still clicky and my stomach muscles are non-existant and pregnancy is a VERY clear recent memory... Imagine, the last time to have a tiny this size. No. I can't let go of that yet. And maybe I ought not let myself dwell on it anyway.
We had our first potty "catches" the same day, and regularly since. Maybe EC is easier the second time around after all? I don't really have to think about it, though I don't think I'm catching even half. But then again neither is it remotely bothering me how many I get or don't get, I'm just tuning in one at a time and being glad for the understanding of her this offers.
And some boxes of baby clothes came down from the attic, mostly gifts that Jenna and Morgan were given and almost all too pink for my tastes... Though Rowan does look sweet in the little flowery vest she's currently wearing, asleep on my lap making little sucky motions every now and again. I wonder if they really do dream of milk?
Ack, now I'm looking at her again and have lost my ability to type. Little bright curious eyes just peeping - what on earth can mamma be doing tapping away there? Ten days old! How fast it passes; too fast to miss even another five minutes of pulling faces at her and talking nonsense. Signing off, still babymooning.