I love when she falls asleep sucking her thumb then it slips out of her pursed little mouth.
I love when she makes cute little squeaky noises.
I love when she smiles so big and so real at her siblings. And at us.
I love when she has to burp but refuses to break her latch as she nurses, squirming and wriggling her chubby little body against mine.
I love when she reaches to grasp a toy, so determined, so new.
I love when she snuggles. With anyone who wants to snuggle back.
I love when she bats her barely-there lashes at her Daddy, flirting & wrapping him around her barely-there finger.
I love when she smiles in her sleep. When it’s not gas-related.
I love when she coos. And when she tries so hard to communicate with us.
I love when she shivers when we take her out of a bath.
I love when she stares at her hands and feet for what seems like hours at a time.
I love when she wakes hungry, yet only makes a few tiny sounds to let us know she’s ready.
I love when she figures it out.
I love when she tries to sing with me. ABC’s. The Hadley Song. Sing A Song Of Sixpence. Pat-A-Cake.
I love when she waits patiently to be dressed, always with a smile.
I love when she nuzzles her face into mine.
I love when she breathes.
Fifteen weeks old. Almost four months. I love this baby girl.




















