All of a sudden, she has grown. She is heavier in my arms, and when she stretches, she stretches out longer than even a week ago. When I look at her, I think she is beginning to look like herself (and not the bewildered newborn we brought home).
At 3-months-old, Soledad Daisy is into the meat of Alice’s hand-me-down baby clothes. It’s a bit surprising to see her in them. Like seeing someone I think I know – but not quite. They are starting to look like sisters: The same, but different.
She wakes up smiling. No matter when she wakes up and no matter how briefly she has been asleep before she wakes up. (She wakes up often. Unless she can nap in your arms, her naps are often cruelly short). But no matter how much you really want her to be asleep again, when she smiles, you smile back.
She has started to whimper when she hears Alice cry. She squeals and coos and punctuates her enthusiasm with sharp little kicks. I swear, she is just a gurgle away from an honest-to-goodness laugh. Like, it’s just behind her lips, and if we told the right joke or sang the right song, out it would spill.