You are two weeks old today, Miss Thea. Over 10 lbs., according to my bathroom scale. Not-so-skinny wrists are starting to hang out of your newborn sized sleeves, and your toes are pushing at the seams of the littlest sleepers. You think that you need to hold your head up and look around at everything; you are starting to reach out and grab at things on the changing table. Waiting until 42 weeks to come out has diminished your teeny-tiny newborn-ness to a small flash of time - I am barely able to cherish it as it slips through my fingers.
You are likely my last newborn, and I love the newborn stage. Despite the lack of sleep and swollen breasts and overall exhaustion I love having a little tiny creation of my own to gaze upon and feed and love. That small window between part of me and most definitely your own is one of my favorite times, and with you, Thea, it has been all too brief. Even so, I am amazed each day at the the little person you are becoming, likes and dislikes starting to show, your personality emerging. We are all so glad you are here Thea, and we love you very much. Happy two-week birthday.