Eleven Months

Evie -loo-who turned 11 months on May 16th. She has changed so much this month; it is all-at-once completely magical and unbelievable. She has gone, in four short weeks, from being a baby to being a little girl.

First, there was the walking (I KNOW, right? People, please keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle at all times... we are moving at warp speed), then there were the teeth, and now? Now we are running. As in: "I-want-to-go-from-here-to-there-a-little-faster-so-I'll-just-pick-up-the-pace" running. My child is a GENIUS. No big deal.

This was the first of her month'days (ya' know, month-birthdays...) that we have spent in Atlanta. It feels so good to be here, surrounded by friends and family and Chick-fil-a's... it's even better than I imagined, if that's possible.

Evie,

This was one of the most wonderfully difficult months to watch you grow. Not because it was hard, but because I am not ready for you to be a big girl. I am not ready for you to need me less... because I will never need you less. You have filled a hole in my heart that I didn't even know existed.

I cannot put into words how beautiful you are... how amazing you are. Your brilliance leaves me speechless on a daily basis. You know how to go up the stairs and then turn around and go down them backwards. You started saying "bye-bye" today... just like that. You heard Lolly say it to you when she got out of the car, and you said it back. Like it was NOTHING. And I am so proud of you... but I wish you would slow down a little bit. Oh, and now? When you don't get your way? You scream at us, like full on vocal-demons-of-the-underworld-coming-out-of-my-throat screaming. That I could do without. But, as much as you are able to do, you are also very cautious... which means that you don't get hurt a lot (mommy's nerves thank you).

To live in your world means to see everything as if it is for the first time: to smile at every stranger we pass... to get excited when you see balloons at the grocery store. I will never be able to adequately thank you for everything that you have taught me.

I love you more with every breath.

- Mommy

Double Digit Oldness

Evie turned ten-months today. I remember rocking her when she was just a few weeks old, tears streaming down my face as I sang "I love you, more than anything", wishing it were true... willing it to be true. I remember how painful it was to feel disconnected from my daughter. I never could have imagined that, in just a few short months, all of that pain would seem like a distant memory; that I would never be able to recall loving her with any less than all of me.

Missy Goo,

You have managed to do it again. You've managed to make me fall even more in love with you. You are the smartest baby this side of the Mississippi (actually, the Universe, but I don't want to offend all of the babies who read my blog). You learned how to hug this month. It is painfully adorable. You make the cutest little sound when you squeeze; like "mmmmmmmmmm mmmmm" (I think you learned it from your Pops). You wave now, too, which makes you even more magnetic to strangers. They are mesmerized by you and your beautiful, blue eyes (I am, too). My life has changed so much over the past ten months. YOU have changed my life so much. I want to pinch myself sometimes, when I'm cuddling you and those little arms wrap around my neck, because I know that I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. I know for certain that I don't... so all I can be is thankful. And when things get hectic, as they often do when you're finishing up graduate school, moving and running a small business at the same time, all I have to do is look at your smile or hear your funny, machine-gun-laugh, and suddenly everything falls into perspective; I remember what is really important, the rest is just trivial.

Bear has really started to warm up to you, too. In fact, just today he let you crawl in his kennel for the first time. Once you were in there, though, he promptly squeezed out and then used his paw to close the door. It sounds mean, but the teasing goes both ways... At lunch today you stuck your slobbery hand down (holding a piece of chicken) and made Bear think you were going to feed him. Once you had let him lick the chicken for a few seconds, you promptly ate it. It's a good thing me and germs have a pretty decent relationship.

9 Months

Today we had our nine month pediatrician appointment. Which means that in a little less than 3 months we will be having our ONE YEAR pediatrician appointment. Which means that my brain is about to implode from the sheer thought of the fact that I am going to have a TODDLER soon....so I probably won't even make it to her 1 year appt. Cause I hear that brain implosion can be pretty hazardous to ones' life. Caaa-razy!

No shots today, just a little finger prick...and we got Evie's measurements. Weight: 16 pounds - 6th percentile. Height 27 inches - 25th percentile. She is still a little Scobey with a HUGE personality. The doctor said that she was ahead of the game and super strong. He doesn't know the half of it. Evie is the smartest baby I have ever met. She picks up on things so quickly and she is super curious. Graham calls her Taz. As in, Tasmanian Devil, because she is always, always moving. Usually really quickly and towards something that will hurt her.

And she is LOUD. Good granny, is she loud. She is constantly babbling and laughing and saying "Yo yo yo dawgs, look at me" (she is really hip). Ok, maybe she doesn't freestyle yet, but she has said her first word. See? Genius baby. I told you. "Uh-oh", indeed.

I cannot believe that it has been nine months. I know I say that every month... but it doesn't make it any less true. You have been out of my belly longer than you were in it. Somehow this is both amazing and a little sad. You are a growing girl. And there is nothing in this world that I can do about it. So I breath in every moment with you: let myself forget about work on my days home, turn off the cell phone so I don't miss a single chance to crawl around on the floor with you, sneak in your room when you are asleep so I can stare at you in your crib. I think it takes being a parent to finally realize how quickly time passes, so I am making every effort I can to enjoy the moments. See how much you are teaching me?

I love you an infinite amount. And I am grateful to you for all of the ways that you challenge me, without even knowing it, to be a better person. You are all of the best things about this world wrapped up in one fun-sized, chubby-cheeked package, and I don't know how I got lucky enough to get the job of being your mom... but I am thankful for it every day.

Lame Sauce

Sorry for the blogging hiatus... things have been crazy, crazy busy (and it's not gonna settle down anytime soon). I am determined to keep on keepin' on, though... so here we go.

For weeks (and weeks and weeks) I had been dreading last Friday. More than any other day of this gonna-take-three-months-to-get-it-done move. More than any day of my ENTIRE life, even: Like a root canal with no pain meds. On a Saturday. While all your friends are at the beach... being slathered with oil by Chippendales dancers.

It was to be an entire, 16-hour-day of traveling, with my 9-month-old and mother-in-law.

Our morning began at 5am, waking Evie up so that we could begin the long drive from one side of Connecticut to the other so that I could teach from 9-12 before we headed to the Boston Airport. The stars aligned, though, and Evie napped the whole way to UCONN. Then, on the second leg of our drive, Evie took another nap. By the time we got to our gate (all the while carrying two carry-ons each, a baby and a stroller) we were so proud of ourselves that we were fartin' rainbows.

Then, because of Debbie's I'm-BFF-with-the-inventor-of-Delta Diamond Medallion Member status, we got to hop on an earlier flight, sit next to one another, check our bags for free, and BOARD THE PLANE FIRST.

Next time you see her you should channel your best Robin Leach and say "Diaaaaaaamonds, dahhhhhhhhhhling". She would like that. (She was seriously such a rock-star all day...Evie would have probably eaten my tears for lunch if Debbie hadn't been there to help me).

The day was going really well; and guys, leaving the Atlanta airport with SMILES on our faces felt pretttty good. After a full day of traveling I would have been satisfied with everyone having all of their appendages intact. But no: we go big. We were SMILING. Diamonds, y'all. Diamonds.

But then we got into the car. With a tired Evie. At 5:15 on a Friday evening. In Atlanta. And here's where I will tell you that listening to a baby cry, neigh... scream, for 2 hours is worse than getting a curb sandwich. So now you know.

But then, just 120 minutes of sheer misery later, we were home. The day I had been dreading for weeks was over. And it was beautiful.

iWantiWantiWantiWantiWANT!

Somebody just knock me up so that I can have a reason to go buy this paper doll bedding from Dwell Studio. It's so cute it might almost be worth another 6 months of sleepless nights.

Soooooo adorable!

Eight MONTHS...one week and one day

Evie turned eight months old on last Tuesday. This has been a HUGE month for her. We lowered her mattress. The same mattress that we unwrapped and put in her brand new cribjust nine short months ago. The same mattress that we thought we would never have to lower because our baby; our little, tiny, yet-to-be-born baby, would never be that big. And now every morning when I go in at 7:00 to get her out of bed she is standing up and smiling like: "Look how big I am with my super-low lowered mattress". And the milestones! She has been blowing through those suckers. There are now giant craters in the Earth where Evie's milestones used to be. Feeding herself? Check. Crawling like a maniac? Check. Cruising around on our furniture? Check. Yelling at Bear when she wants him to play? Check check.

She is becoming quite a tough little cookie.

Also: she learned how to say "Da-da", and in a desperate attempt to teach her to say "Ma-ma" I try and work that word into my vocabulary as often as I can. I literally walk around all day going "Can you say "Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma"?". But then that little Who-ha of a daughter of mine looks me DEAD IN THE EYES and says "Da-da". Sometimes I overreact and threaten her life, but apparently the words "I WILL END YOU" are hilarious in baby speak. She has said one other thing... yesterday she looked at me and said something that sounded distinctly like "egg head". So basically she loves me a whole lot. Obviously.

Diaper Rash, A Literal Pain in the Butt

Remember that time I was all: "Swoooooon. Life is perfect. Life is awesome. Look! Over there! A unicorn just jumped over the most beautiful rainbow and now she is bringing me a winning lottery ticket!"

Well, if nothing else, parenthood is ever changing. And that unicorn? She just turned into a big, nasty, yeasty infection. White and red puss filled vestibules. On my child's hind parts. (Now that I think about it, this whole thing is probably exacerbated by the fact that Evie thinks it's cool to poop SIX TIMES A DAY. So Evie, if you're reading this: just stop that... and the agony will disappear) And, while none of this is particularly glorious to me, the poor baby is in a lot of pain.

Don't worry. I've been overmedicating her. It's any good mother's duty. And no, I am not interested in switching her to cloth diapers. I have already been told by several thousand and umpteen people that they are better for the environment! better for the baby! better for the budget! Well, I refuse to feel guilty about embracing some of life's little conveniences like, ya know, NOT having to wash crap out of a piece of cotton. And did you read that part where Evie poops SIX TIMES A DAY. Yeeeah.

So I'm opting for the easy way out: more medication. And you can say what you will about drug companies.... but those people are magical magic-making magicians! Nystatin is my new BFF. Right after I finish this post we are going to run upstairs, eat bonbons and watch Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

Why? Because in LESS THAN 12 HOURS it can turn an anguished, screaming child into this:

Nystatin, will you be my Valentine? Oh, and her socks in this video? Those socks are further proof that Ev is a genetic clone of her father. I really wish I had a picture to show you how inappropriately high he wears socks. With shorts.

(I'm gonna find a picture)

That big announcement: It's close. Really close. Like a few days away. I know, I said that like two weeks ago... but just keep yo' panties (or whatever you wear/ don't wear/ only wear on special occasions) on!

Heart Explosions: A minor cardiovascular inconvenience.

In the past two months, Evie has gone from rocking on her knees to crawling to crawling fast to pulling up to cruising. When I tell people that she has stumbled upon mobility the most common reaction is "Ohhh, you're in trouble". And I am . I really, really am.

But not in the way they meant it. Not because she is getting into things and is increasingly difficult to keep up with. I am in trouble because, every single night I go to sleep certain that I could not love her more. every. single. night. And every single morning I wake up and find that I do, in fact, love her more. And this is very dangerous to my health because one day soon my heart is going to grow so big that it starts poking out through my orifices... and if you have ever seen a human heart you know that this WILL NOT BE PRETTY. And... well, I'll probably die.

And suddenly my squishy, one-hundred-percent-dependent-on-me little baby is all "No, MOTHER, I do not have time to cuddle today. There is a job opening down at the United Nations and there is world hunger to be solved! Dear God, woman, STOP CRYING!"

I am utterly confused as to when life started going by so quickly. I mean, I know that it's always gone by fast; as in: I'm-So-Glad-That-Eighteen-Year-Awkward-Phase-Went-By-Fast, fast. But this, this is just absurd.

And now she WAVES? And is 95% of the way to being able to play PATTY-CAKES?! Someone... just cut all of my knuckles open with the edges of an Encyclopedia Britannica. That would be less painful than this.

And to make matters worse: my uterus (which is the trickiest of all the lady organs) is trying daily to convince me that I miss the babies. And that I want another one. So the logical side of me is trying my damnedest to convince my uterus that, no, you don't want another baby in there. It will stretch you. And then make you CONTRACT. And then they'll have to CUT YOU OPEN again. That doesn't sound like fun, does it? But my uterus is the captain of the Uterine Debate Team... so I think having it removed may be my only choice.

Groundhog Day Giveaway

Well, Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow this morning; graciously granting us six more weeks of winter (let's be honest though... we'll probably have another three months of winter in Connecticut).

So, to brighten the mood of all you moms/moms-to-be/friends of moms out there, check out this $50 giveaway on LA Stylist Mom. Jillybean Green has all of the uniqueness of a high end baby boutique, but the prices are great.

Oh, and can we please talk about how we went out to eat with Evie THREE times last week and not once did she have a melt down?!? It's like 7 months happened and all of a sudden we feel like what I always imagined a family would feel like. It's magical. Now I just need those doctor people to figure out a way to make it so that I can BIRTH a seven month old. Then, my friends, we'd be in business.

Can we also talk about how freakin' excited I am for this show because, well, I fully expect to be one of those s0-embarrassing-my-life-is-over kind of moms... and not even because I want to be... I just know myself well enough to know that there will be times I am unable to resist doing the robot in the carpool lane. So sue me.

Zero to Sixty

Listen here, little lady: I am not even ready for you to be eating solids, let alone feeding yourself.

Put. Down. The. Spoon.

Holy moly this has flown by. Someone find the pause button please.

The one person who actually likes how quickly Evie is growing is Bear. She is a lot more fun and interesting to him now that she can crawl. Ev likes him a little bit, too.

(you may want to turn down your volume - he barks)

Some big news coming up on the blog in the next couple of weeks; just a few more details to work out before we can make the official announcement!

First Week Away

Our first day of 2010 began in tears. My tears. As I watched Graham pack the Jeep, knowing that we would be driving back to Connecticut without our little girl. We've been at a photography conference (which, by the by, rocked my face right off my head) so Evie is staying at Camp Deanie - my mom's house - for a few more days and then they're flying up on the 8th.

So there were tears; lots of tears. And just when I would think I had finally pulled it together I would look up; and there would be the cheeks. And the tears would recommence. Because, well, what if those cheeks change while I'm away?! What is those cheeks start crawling?!?

There were moments when I didn't know if I'd be able to bring myself to leave. But then I did. I got in the car. We drove away. And I waited. And waited. But more tears didn't come. Instead, my internal dialogue was something like:

"Yaaahhhhoooooooooooiiieeee, Yiiiipppppppiiieeeeee!"

I feel like I am in adult nirvana: on vacation with no child and no work. Granted, I cannot wait for her to come back so that I can squeeze that 67th percentile head of hers... but I am also enjoying these last few nights of quiet.

And if you think that my less-than-sad reaction makes me a bad mom; well, get ready for this: I fed Evie grilled cheese sandwiches all last week. And she LOVED them. HAH!

I mean, if it takes sandwiches to get this peanut the gain some weight well... then... it's sandwiches she'll get!

Six Months (and one week)

With grading and finals and travel and family I have been a slogger lately (that's a slacker blogger... obviously). Sorry about that...

In other news: Evie is the most oddly proportioned child on the planet. Her six month checkup was last Tuesday and here are her stats:

Weight: 13.5 pounds, 6th percentile

Height: 24 inches, 50th percentile

Head Circumference: 67th percentile

The pediatrician was a little bit concerned because her weight percentile had dropped from the 13th to the 6th percentile... but I promised that we feed the child as much as we can. She is just such a busy baby. All she wants is the be a part of the action, and it seems like she thinks that eating gets in the way of that... so unless you are in a quiet room with nobody else within earshot, Evie gets distracted.

Her personality keeps coming out more and more... and we are going to have our hands FULL. She is such a ham and really outgoing. It is so much fun to watch her interacting with other people.

Here is Evie before bath-time last week (Graham normally doesn't let me post naked-babu pictures... but this one got the OK because it doesn't show her hoohoo).

More to come on our SIXTEEN HOUR DRIVE to Atlanta this past weekend... after which I am just thankful to still be breathing.

The Club I Least Wanted to be Part of

This past Sunday we loaded up the Scobey Clan and spent the day at Carla's for a family portrait mega event with all of the other peeps from the studio. It was so much fun. And Evie, in typical Evie fashion, was a trooooo-per. She was incredibly patient and smiley. Especially considering that she only took a 20 minute nap the entire, 6 hour day.

I guess that shouldn't really surprise me. She is a really happy, good-natured baby. But this one time, when Evie was about 12 weeks, I drank caffeine and by the time it got to Evie it had apparently morphed into rocket fuel and she was all schooooooooom, kazoooooooommmmm, wablammmmmoooooo for the next 12 hours.

I spent the majority of that day crying. It was enough to scar me for life.

It is also the reason I am still a little shocked when Evie is her typical, awesome self.

At the end of the day we all sat down and watched a slide-show of the images: they were unreal. It got me all jazzed up and made me want to take more pictures.

So on Tuesday I got Evie all dressed up, put her in a little tutu, and we had a little mini portrait sesh of our own.

Super cute, yeah? Mommy-daughter bonding time, right? Except that exactly .45 seconds after this photo was taken I look down at my camera to check my exposure and Evie rolls off the chair. Does a full 360 degree flip in the air. Lands smack on her big 90th-percentile-head. On the hardwood. And starts screaming.

Yeah. I am officially one of those moms who drops their children on those-things-that-HOUSE-THEIR-BRAINS.

I felt/feel awful about it. Like, seriously terrible. So much so that even after Evie had stopped crying I kept the good ole' Tear Train going for a solid hour.

If life were a video game I would have had little "Mom-guilt + 2,000" signs popping out of my head for the next four days. My mom assures me that every parent has accidently hurt their child in some way, but that doesn't really make me feel better about it.

What have you done that has caused the most self-inflicted-guilt?

Consequences

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Newton must not have ever cared for a newborn because, according to his law, a little thing like giving a child formula should never result in the ABOMINATION that finds its way into Evie's diaper once every two days. The smell is enough to fry your brains and make your eyeballs bleed.

Seriously, formula is super convenient and all, but I'm not sure it is worth the entire second floor of our house smelling like the public restroom at a refried bean factory. We had an...err...episode...today, and here was the precaution that had to be taken in order to make sure that neither myself nor Graham threw up all over Evie's cute, polka-dotted rug.

Parenting makes you quite resourceful.

For reals: I have the best husband in the world.

Happy Fall Ya'll

Now that we have gotten past the snow (oh yeah, uh huh, it SNOWS here in October...) the air is perfectly crisp and the leaves are perfectly vivid. Fall in New England is, by far, the only thing that redeems it from the harsh winters. It is beautiful; except that "beautiful" does not even begin to describe it.

Driving down the roads right now, you find yourself completely enveloped in what can only be described as the most awesome display of God's ability to paint.

So this past weekend we bundled up the little one, threw on our scarves and went for a hike.

She has really started to enjoy being put in a carrier. Thank GOD, because I was not too keen on living the rest of my life with my arms randomly falling out of their sockets in an effort to rebel against me for those three years that Evie would not let me put her down.

Add to that the fact that going on hikes is one of our favorite past times as a couple and, well, it's just really convenient that little bit likes it, too. I hope all of you out there in the blogosphere are enjoying the change of seasons as much as we are.

*pictures by the ever-talented Graham Scobey - my miniature beefcake of a man*

Procrastination

I should be finishing a paper right now. But no, I am blogging...and then? I am going to take a nap. Something about school teaches us to put things off until the very last minute. I mean, I am a good student. I have practically made a career out of being a student (scratch that, nothing practical about it -- I have ACTUALLY made a career out of being a student) and I still procrastinate.

We are taught a dance: think about work, plan to do work, put work off, nap and repeat. It is still one of my FAVORITE dances to do. I have to add that I hate it when people spell favorite with a "u". Like: favourite. Give me a break. Who are you? The Queen?

Favorite.

So: It is still one of my favorite dances to do. Right up there with the cha-cha slide and the cabbage patch. I just cannot make myself not procrastinate. There are too many other things I would rather do. Like nap. And let me just tell you: I take the "nap when baby naps" axiom very seriously. I do not mess around.

DOUBT

Doubt is a very powerful thing. It can be good: I firmly believe that no harm can come from a willingness to question things. On the contrary; one of the greatest dangers in life is just going along; refusing to let yourself challenge what you know.

But doubt can also be harmful. Especially when you make a habit of doubting yourself.

I have always been a glass-half-empty kind of person. Whenever I do things that are difficult, there are these voices in my head whispering: "you're not good enough", "you cannot possibly go that far -- do that much"...

Since Evie, that's changed. I mean, since Evie everything has changed: but THIS, this I never thought would change. I have been battling self doubt my whole life. There is only one possible explanation for this. Evie is my Horcrux. When I had her, my soul split... and now there is nothing I cannot do.

Something more powerful than doubt: being a mother.

And the leaves are changing which means that I get to drive to school through fiery tunnels and it is beautiful and all is right in the world.

Here is little Miss playing airplane on Mommy's legs during a picnic on Friday.

I know what you are all thinking: "That is not Evie. That is GRAHAM. It has to be Graham." and although I have this very same thought at least seventeen times in any given day: no, it is not Graham, it is my baby daughter. I know this because Graham is much too big to play airplane on my legs.

Long Overdue

In August we went to Atlanta and, besides the part where I had to milk myself, it was an awesome trip. Evie got to meet all of the amazing Southern Folks who love her so very much. And suffice it to say that there are a LOT of them. So we did what any good Georgian Family (albeit a transplanted one) would do: ate a lot of food and traveled around handing out free hugs everywhere we went.

I'm just gonna say it: Southerners do it better. And I don't just mean cooking, decorating, and partying. I mean they are better at being humans. (Oh, wait, what's that sound I just heard? The tapping noise of my non-southern readers clicking UN-FOLLOW). But really, once you dip below the Mason Dixon Line it's hard not to compare everywhere else you go to That Place where the people are just soooo naice (that's "nice" in Georgia-speak)... and I'm not gonna lie: there is a piece of me that dies every time I think about the little, twangy accent that Evie could have had.

And the love. Ohhhh the looooove. There were people who we saw on this visit who have loved us our entire lives, so to see them snuggling on Evie just made my heart look like a scene straight out of Disney's Fantasia.

Three cheers for Grandpa. Hip-Hip, Horray!

Snuggling with the Meemers...who drove all the way from Mississippi to hold Ms. Evie.

And the man who has, on more than one occasion, been single-handedly responsible for helping me maintain my sanity.

And the man who has, on more than one occasion, been single-handedly responsible for keeping Graham's mother from murdering him.

As you can see, the trip was a success...and we cannot wait to take Evie back to the ATL in November so that she can meet her new cousin, Sophi.

I will leave you with some sweet, sweet second cousin love.

**PHOTOS TAKEN BY THE UBER-TALENTED GRAHAM SCOBEY, DUH**

Saying "No" to Daycare

Graham and I are really blessed because we have figured out a way around the whole daycare thing. Now, before you get all angry: I am not saying that daycare is bad. I was a daycare baby, 8-5 everyday for much of my childhood, and I turned out just fine. So... now that we have that all cleared up, we are going to try and keep Evie out of daycare for the first 6 months or so of her life.

We have a neighbor with a 9-month-old... and this semester we will be trying our hand at baby sharing. Our neighbor will take Evie for several hours a week and, in return, we will take her son (Chase; who, by the way, is devastatingly handsome already and is going to be forced into an arranged marriage with my daughter) for a few hours.

In order to prep for Operation Babyshare, Beth (my neighbor... and, might I add so that you all know JUST how awesome and trustworthy she is, fellow SOUTHERNER) and I did a trial run this past week. Playing with Chase was a blast, but it made me realize that I cannot have another child. I mean, as if run-of-the-mill mommy guilt isn't bad enough... try attempting to divide your time between two (let alone three or, as if anyone is crazy enough, FOUR) children who need and want your attention.

And, sadly, in the battle for my attention the one who MOVES (like crazy-fast-crawling-lightening) always wins... because Evie may cry, but she isn't going to crawl into danger anytime soon. So I found myself apologizing to Evie over and over again.

I'm sorry I can't hold you, sweetie, but if I don't watch Chase he might eat the dog-food/stick his finger in an outlet/take the car and do doughnuts in the neighbor's lawn.

Can you imagine the kind of reputation I would get it I let that happen?!

Two Month Checkup

My child; my little, tiny, six-pound-peanut of a newborn is ten weeks old today... and I am racking my brain trying to figure out who is sitting on the fast-forward button of my life's remote. And how can I get them to stop?

Evie's two-month checkup was yesterday. I have never wanted to physically harm someone so much as I did when that nurse (who I am sure is an otherwise completely pleasant human-being) plunged three needles into my angel's leg. I'll be honest: I cried significantly more than Evie did. She is the bravest little girl in the whole world... which just reminds me, yet again, of how BIG she is getting.

When she came home from the hospital, Evie was 6 pounds... now she is 10 (which puts here in the 28th percentile for weight). She has slept completely through the night for the past five nights in a row, for which my pediatrician tells me I should be counting my lucky stars. Every night and twice on Sundays. I totally am.

Annnnd I am headed back to work today. Completely bitter-sweet because, on the one hand, I am really excited about having an excuse to shower and get dressed and get out of the house to talk to people who can say more than "coo" and "urgggle" (even though those are the sweetest words I have ever heard). On the other hand, though, what if I miss something?!? I mean... not to over-exaggerate here, but if I am not there for the first time she rolls over or sits up by herself the world will completely implode on itself... and that will be absolutely no good for the environment.

Can you believe how much she has changed?!

Evie on the way home from the hospital. 6 pounds, 19 inches long.

Evie on her 10-week-birthday. 10 pounds, 22 inches long.