|This is the face that faked a thousand sneezes.|
As we all know, change isn't easy, and developing neural pathways is flat-out exhausting. Genevieve has needed me more than she has before, in what I refer to as the "MOMMYMOMMYMOMMY" way. Meaning, nobody can make it better but me (and Andrew, but it's a hard sell, evidently).
She wants to physically be touching me almost all the time, which is a little challenging. She's close to 20 lbs already, and there have been a few days in the last few weeks where my lower back - and occasionally, knees - just *ache* with fatigue. And pain.
My core strength disappeared while I was pregnant, and I am slowly working on rebuilding it, partly by putting Genevieve in the Ergo carrier and bouncing on my pilates/birth/bounce-your-baby-to-sleep ball.
And it works! I do what I can while I wear her (which isn't much) and she sleeps soundly. I remind myself that housework will wait, and a well-rested baby is a happy baby. Happy babies usually have happy Mommies, and we all pay that love forward.
Despite our challenges and growing pains, I love everything about her. I love sewing for her.
I love that she has found her voice.
(Even though that voice is occasionally providing the dialog to - what sounds like - a very complicated and dramatic original telenovela, featuring the dastardly wooden bird on her play gym. From what I have observed, he is *quite* the villain.)
She still has a fantastic smirk, which I believe is courtesy of Unkie Sam,
the Pointer Sisters, she's so excited, and she just can't hide it.
I love that she still laughs in her sleep- full, belly laughs. I also think it's charming that she will do the Ernie laugh.