We’ll have to teach her to knock first.

Nothing like making a life-beginning entrance in 3 hours. Baby girl came busting through just 25 minutes shy of midnight last night (March 22nd). Maybe she was hungry? Maybe she suddenly really had something to tell me? Was there something in my teeth?

She weighed in at 2.98 kilograms – still waiting to crack the 3-kilo mark – with a now-predictable, trademark full head of dark black hair, to rival her older siblings.


Bebe update: Seven months.

You’re sitting in my lap right now, sleeplessly staring at the screen while I write to you. So we’ll do this one together.

Apropos, you’re going through a separation anxiety phase. Hey, it’s a little bit mutual; it’s not easy not being around your smushy smile whenever I want. It leaves me wishing I could give you so much more.

But you enjoy your daycare, you enjoy playing on your own (much of the time) and you enjoy… pretty much everything. Your generally positive ‘outlook’ on life is inspiring… and appreciated.

And you’re ambitious, too. You’ve got the sitting and crawling down, and for weeks you’ve been working on lifting yourself up, holding the coffee table. But as modestly as you make these strides, you gracefully take the falls…

Unless they are really harsh, in which case your ability to scream – well, like a little girl – terrifies me. Not that you’re hurt, because with a cuddle you’re fine. But that, well, you scream… like that. I didn’t know that stereotype was true.

Also, I’m not gonna lie to you, B. I’m enjoying dressing you up more than I thought I would. You’ll do whatever you want, style-wise… not worried about that. You do come from a line of women who go that way. But for now, I can enjoy a little ruffle here and red sparkle there.

Ok, and while we’re on the girl stuff… Bebe, you gotta stop pulling my hair!

Bebe update: Three months.

Let’s share a warm welcome with Bebe, fresh out of the fourth trimester.

How do I appreciate you, little one? Let me count the ways.

  1. You are delicious. Your face is actually edible; not in a creepy Twilight way, but in a way that I could take bites of you and it would never be too sweet.
  2. You are my calm after the storm. I know it’s unacceptable to compare kids, especially when talking to your kids. Koala is amazing, but let’s face it, Beebs – he’s a storm and you’re the calm. You take it as it comes. You complain little, and when you do, you’re a kitten about it. You have a boiling point, to be sure – let’s not forget whose daughter you are. But until it’s reached, you try all other outlets. Maybe world leaders could learn from you.
  3. You’ve doubled my excitement over being a mom. Being a mom in general is one thing, and now I’m a mom to a daughter… Jokes aside… It’s a relationship I held sacred as a girl among brothers. Now I get the chance to feel the other side of the equation, and share everything I’ve gained with you.

I’ll stop at three to celebrate your monthly milestone, but stay tuned for more, Bebe. We’ve only just begun…

New baby: Two months.

Baby, baby, baby. Uncurled, extended, grabby.

Coddled by big brother, loved by mama and abba, and in the last month, visited by grandpa and extended family.

And in the last few days especially, she is opening up to us the way we’ve opened up to her. Her smiles are spontaneous, her grabbing is productive, her gaze follows the mobile’s jangling jungle animals with a new focus.

Baby girl, keep grabbing for what you want…

…pretty soon your brother will realize you’re not so innocent and start grabbing back…