I was looking at Finleigh the other day as she smiled her goofy newborn smile in her sleep (big, open mouth, just goofy) and thinking about what she may be when she grows up. This is something I wonder about my girls all the time…I’m sure most parents do. You look at your sweet baby, or your big kid (made to seem even bigger and more grown up in comparison to the new one) and imagine if they’ll be mothers, teachers, lovers, friends.
It was a sweet moment.
And then, this sweet, smiling baby in my lap puked. Exorcist style, projectile, shooting out her nostrils puke. All over me. ALL OVER. Sweet moment FAIL.
Such is life with a newborn…who’s no longer a newborn. She’s 4 weeks old, a month on Thursday. Where did the time go? I wonder that as I look at this baby who is smiling at us all, cooing and gooing, napping and watching and taking it all in. She smiled for the first time this week: at Ryan. Moments like that are why we have more children; watching them interact is what it’s all about.
And watching; I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Observing, quietly, often through the lens of my camera, and learning more about my kids as I capture them on camera.
My kids. I still get a kick out of saying that. Or my girls. It’s kind of like when Michael and I got married, and for months, got a total kick out of calling each other “my husband” and “my wife”. And everytime I say, “my girls”, Ryan reminds me that we’re “our girls”. She’s always chatting with Finleigh, reminding her that big sister’s here, that big sister loves her, and singing to her.
Speaking of the big sis…her funnies for the week:
hand santizer = “hanitizer”
“mommy, I’m polishing off daddy’s oatmeal right now”
“papa, the table’s all jacked up” (a favorite phrase in our house)