Wheeeee! Did you hear that? It was Time, whistling by overhead. Niamh is a month old already. How did that happen?!
Apart from that odd hazy-vague feeling brought about by a steep decrease in concurrent hours of sleep, I’m doing pretty well. Really well, even.
Apart from a rather unattractive heat rash spreading across her neck and face, Niamh is definitely doing really well. No smiles yet (Finn smiled in the forth week… not that we’re keeping score or anything… !) but I’m sure they’re just around the corner. She’s still largely a peaceful baby, and rapt in her big brother. I captured some magic two days ago:
That actually happened – I am not making it up! Sadly, it is not always so. Tonight, for instance, we are just starting into our third hour of Operation Get-Niamh-To-Sleep-In-The-Cot. And what do you know, she can cry, after all. Quite well, in fact :blank:
So the ability to put together coherent sentences is slowly leaving me… I’ll leave you now with two words. Niamh’s special skill.
Projectile Vomiting 😮
(Finn never even spit-up. You know, not that we’re keeping score or anything!!!)