Soledad Daisy loves to look out a sunshiney window.
It seems like the haze is clearing. Like she is waking up. Last weekend, we bought her a mobile, and she lies under it, kicking and cooing and tracking the pieces with wide, wide eyes.
She is still a cuddler, especially clingy these past couple of days when I think she might have had a cold. I go to her when she wakes up fussing, and she quiets a little at the sound of my voice and footsteps.
The teensy newborn-sized clothes don’t fit anymore. My dad visited this week, and when she couldn’t straighten her legs inside a sleeper I had just snapped closed, he said, “We used to cut the feet off so you could wear them longer.” And maybe I will. It’s hard to pack them away so soon.