8 Weeks

Anna-Baby hit eight weeks yesterday. She did wonderfully and slept through just about all of church and of course looked very cute in her tiny dress, ballet shoes, and headband-with-a-bow. (The headband is a necessity to ensure her admirers understand she is of the female persuasion.)

A lady brought a baby who was one week old to church (he was her fourth child- I guess her germ-fears have alleviated over the years) and I couldn't believe that he looked so different and young compared to Annalise. She looked like a regular baby and not a newborn next to him and here I was thinking she was the youngest child ever to exist. As I looked at his peeling little hands I realized that hers don't peel anymore and I couldn't believe she passed that stage! She is old enough to pass stages! And I hadn't even noticed! Her peely wrists and ankles went away ages ago and I didn't even note it in my brain. As she stared around with her huge blue eyes, she looked So. Big.

The Boo did pretty well at a wedding we went to on Saturday. She hollered really hard at one point, was taken out to be nursed, and returned during the quiet first dance only to begin screaming again, but otherwise let people hold her and looked around a lot peacefully.

Last night at Binkie Goddess's birthday party she celebrated her eight weeks on the earth by screaming a lot at the top of her lungs for everyone's pleasure and refusing to be placated, but before that she did let me sit down and eat a while which was extremely lovely (especially since Dave was far away at his friend's house, gleefully compiling his fantasy basketball draft with his pals and thereby providing himself weeks of unending pleasure). Usually for meals one of us stands and bounces her while the other eats and then we trade off. Annalise is our official human-relay-race-baton.

Here is my cutie-poo, 8 weeks old: