10 weeks is such a sweet spot. Evangeline is really coming into her own lately, and each day I’m emerging more from that newborn fade.
I want to gush all over the place. She is a joy. She’s already so opinionated, sensitive, hilarious, remarkable, feisty.
Maybe it’s because she’s my fourth, but every day I am cognizant of the wonder of her.
She does this thing where she’ll cry for what feels like an eternity and exasperates me completely. I’ll bounce and burp, nurse again, walk outside, talk with her, swaddle her, change her diaper, lay her down, pick her back up until I don’t know what I can possibly do to to stop her from being so wound up.
And then I look into her eyes, beg her to stop crying, and then start to sing to her. And she calms immediately, staring right into my eyes, and then she smiles.
And I begin to cry because in all my life I’ve never felt like my heart was literally flooding… magnificence.
Every day with her feels like Christmas morning (see, I can’t even help myself).
She is a gift.
They all are.