Peanut.

TinyE snoozing in her "peanut shell" sling, as worn by Mom.

I admit it, I'm sentimental. I'm sentimental for five minutes ago; I'm sentimental looking at photos that were taken today. Every day I still feel so lucky to have TinyE with us. Some nights when I'm holding her I try to breathe in the moment and pretend it will last forever.

The other night, I snuck into her room to check on her. There she was, jackknifed against the corner of her crib, breathing those deep sighs that come with the best of sleep. I picked up her to give her a late night bottle (re: my ticket to avoiding a 2am wake up call), and her small body was like a big heavy bag of sand in my arms.

Right then and there, I wished she could stay that way. I wished that she would always feel like the center of our universe; always know that her needs would be met; forever be a little baby, safe with the knowledge that she will always be warm, fed and loved.

Right now she's such a sponge; always ready and willing to soak up all the attention and adoration she can get -- and feisty when that doesn't happen. I know someday she'll grow up, someday she'll want to walk on her own without us getting too close.

We had a really nice Mother's Day weekend. The Peanut Shell was a gift I got for both of us. I swear, five minutes in that thing and she's out like a light -- the deepest sleep you've ever seen. And she wakes up sweaty with her hair all fuzzy and mussed - it's wonderfully cute.


We also celebrated by introducing her to rice cereal, which has turned out to be popular with the cats as well (they get the leftovers). Contrary to the picture, she really does enjoy it. At least, that's how I interpret the panting that occurs when I get out the bowl and spoon.