Your father and I have made it six weeks with you in our lives and to our knowledge, we don't seem to have damaged you in any permanent way. Thank God.
You've come a long way in the last month. You are now flashing your contagious smile at us all the time. I like all of your smiles, but they have an uncanny ability to melt my heart when you flash one at me just after I've changed your diaper for the second time after a 4 a.m. feeding. That's right...a second time. Because girl, you poop a lot without much concern for the fact that I've just put a new diaper on that cute little bum of yours. And you are a gassy little thing. Sometimes as I am finally drifting off to sleep, I hear you tooting away in the other room and have to let an audible little giggle escape from my sleep-deprived lips.
Let's talk about sleeping for a minute. Little one, I want you to know that there have been a couple of truly frustrating nights. I want you to know this so that in some far off time when you have your own little gassy darling, you won't feel like a bad momma when you hit a wall and have to call in the support troops. It's HARD to have someone yell at you for hours. But it doesn't mean you love them any less; it just means that you're tired and you're frazzled and you need to call me to tell me all about it...just like I call your Grammy for words of comfort and advice.
At your one-month appointment with Dr. Warner, he said you were in perfect health (at 9 pounds 12 ounces, you are in the 75th percentile for weight, evidence that you eat like a champ)! He also told us to start with tummy time. I must say that you love tummy time. Ever since you were born, you've been practicing tummy time whenever you lay on your dad's chest by frantically pushing your legs against his lap to "stand up" and by pushing your arms against his chest. Only now that you are stronger, you are able to lift up your torso so that you can look him right in the eye and give him that show-stopping smile. You haven't perfected holding up your head, but now when you do, it is for more than just a second or two. You are one determined little girl, demonstrated by both your facial expressions and vocal grunts as you try to get your body to cooperate with what your brain is telling it to do. We normally don't end tummy time because you're tired but because your frustrations drive you to real cries.
Speaking of figuring things out, three days ago you were in your vibrating chair when I caught you looking at your right hand. Audrey, I swear that at that very moment you came to the realization that those adorable five-fingered things were your hands and, what's more, that you had some semblance of control over them. Since then, whenever you look at a mobile that is within reach, you stare hard at it, stick out your tongue and concentrate on getting your hands to reach out and touch it. Just as with tummy time, sometimes we have to end these learning sessions because you get frustrated that things aren't happening as quickly as you'd like them to happen. It's really quite endearing.
Once you've gotten fussy, I quickly walk into your nursery and stand in front of the mirror. One glimpse at yourself or me in that reflective glass will yield at least a pause in the shockingly loud shrieking cries that escape from that tiny little mouth of yours.
In the last month you have been quite the socialite, garnering looks from every direction when I take you out! It doesn't matter if it is in line at the post office as you spit up all over me (that was super pleasant) or you're passed out in a wrap at lunch with your Grandpa and me at Whole Foods, you draw people in. You've visited with my co-workers, Grammy's Wednesday wining girlfriends, and even attended your first Game Night. And as you get older, you spend longer and longer with your hands against my chest, pushing yourself away from me so that you can get a better view of this great big world where adventure certainly is just around the corner. I can't wait to see where you'll go!