Sometimes in addition to the aforementioned, we take pictures.
And on occasion, I’ll get a request from a family member for more pictures of EK.
They pretty much all look the same. EK is either sleeping or awake.
This past weekend my niece, Ash, decided to play photographer. Inspired by my friend Lacee who recently crammed my baby in a bucket and took some amazing pictures, Ash tried to reenact the same look, with some decent results like the one below.
My little traveler has already visited 3 states in her six short weeks of being alive. She’s practically a world traveler.
Her first trip was to the Green Country of Northeastern Oklahoma to visit her Okie relatives. Mainly this sweet great-grandmother who just so happens to share her birthday.
There’s only a mere 94 years difference in their ages.
We attended a wedding and EK put on a skirt, or rather a tutu, for the first time in her little life.
One shoe on and one shoe off. Sounds like a nursery rhyme.
It was her first outing besides doctor checkups and of course, we forgot the diaper bag. And of course, we needed the diaper bag.
This past Saturday, we celebrated more birthdays. I turned 37, and EK turned 6 weeks old. We celebrated with chocolate cake and tall glasses of whole milk while visiting more relatives in the mountains of New Mexico.
We sat by a crackling fire and watched the pine branches grow heavy with wet, fluffy snow and enjoyed good food and great hosts.
And now we’re back in the Lone Star State, nailing our feet to the prairie grasses.
Emma Kate was hungry. And if you can’t get the real thing to suck on, you go for the second best thing. She hit the jackpot with her thumb and was going to town on it.
At first she had both her thumb and her forefinger in there, but shortly lost the forefinger and discovered the thumb was the way to go.
I’m not encouraging it, I just had to get a picture of it.
I’m writing to you, my precious, even though I know you can’t read yet. But you’re so smart, I’m convinced it will probably only take you another couple of months at the rate you’re going! I want to capture your life and all its milestones, stepping stones, and rocky roads you travel until that glorious day when you string sounds together on paper and read words. Then we can write your life together. Won’t that be fun?
The first time I got to hold you.You were already thinking, "I know this old gal."
You’ve walked this earth for one month today. Technically you haven’t walked this earth. You haven’t crawled, scooted or even rolled this earth. Rather you’ve been lugged and toted, passed from person to loving person who simply adore you and practically come to blows over whose going to hold you next. Truthfully, I’ve actually witnessed 2 grown men holler, “I’ve got her” and race each other to your crib when you made the littlest possible squeak. Teenagers used to do that when the telephone rang, back when I was a girl.
This is where your feet are while I type this, causing my mouse to move all over and my screens to disappear.
You are simply adored. You have no idea how many people love you, and I do mean love you. Full, unmeasured, unconditional love. I update my Facebook status regularly with posts all about you and show your pictures and can you believe that people who aren’t even your blood kin call you beautiful!! And that’s because you are. Just remember to always act beautifully, okay? What your insides look like is more important in this life than your outsides. Beauty fades, sweet girl. But right now, you own it. You have the sweetest round face, the longest eyelashes, and the best smile of any baby I’ve ever seen. You’ve been smiling since we first saw you. People say it’s gas, but I believe you’re happy to be here. You had to wait a long time, but now you’re here.
Your pudgy belly hangs over your little newborn britches, making you absolutely squeezable. You are weighing in at a hefty 9 lbs .3 ounces and are 20 7/8″ long. The doctor says you look great, you are about in the 50th percentile in height, weight, and head size, which is just a big way of saying you’re absolutely perfect! Your lungs sound good. You are a healthy girl, fearfully and wonderfully made in His image, and oh how I thank Him daily for you.
You, one month old
You are strong and are beginning to hold your head up for longer and longer periods of time. You were alert from day one, and other than beautiful, it’s the second most commented aspect of your personality. Sometimes, it’s as if you are just going to open your mouth and start talking. Your aunt Jolea said it’s as if you have an old soul. My friend, Mrs. Z said you act like a 3 month old in a newborn outfit.
Having some tummy time on the Boppy.
Lots of people say you look like your daddy, a few say me, and a handful say there are parts of your grandpa in you. Even I see that sometimes, especially when you first wake up all groggy acting, and tufts of hair from your balding head are sticking out on the sides.
I already think you’ve grown so much this first month, and I want time to slow down, but at the same time, I can’t wait to see who you’re going to be. Are you going to be outgoing? Daredevilish? Reserved? Quiet? Creative? Outdoorsy? Will you like peas and bananas or will you spit them out? I already know you’re going to love strawberries because I dreamed it. I can’t wait to hear you laugh, and I look forward to our future. We are going to have such fun.
your favorite pastime these days
You are the light of my life. My sunshine. You make me happy all the time, when skies are gray or blue.
You will never, never, never know how much I love you, baby girl.
My baby’s got hats. She’s got a lot of hats. I am nuts for a knitted hat. Or crocheted, since I don’t really know the difference.
But my baby’s also got problems. Her head is small and her hats are big.
So while I’m waiting for her head to grow, I thought we’d try out a headband. I’m not crazy about headbands, but decided she needed a different look rather than just her bare head.
This is what we got.
I don’t know, but there’s something vaguely familiar about those feathers on her head.
Oh, I know. She kind of reminds me of one of these, only pink.
image courtesy of mypetchicken.com
Except of course, my baby girl is much cuter.
So, instead of toting her around looking like a white silkie rooster, I’ve decided we’ll wait for her to grow into her hats. (and the whole world nods in agreement and sighs in relief)
Eat, sleep, poop, repeat.
Angel Wheeler 