If I had one word to describe Isla's first month, it would be: hot. Between the constant body heat that accompanies nursing, wearing her in a carrier while we're at the park, occasional screaming fits (her's, not mine) and swaddling (again, her, not me) it seems that neither of us have stopped sweating since she was born.
She's a sweet girl. She hasn't yet revealed what are sure to be her many unique personality traits. She's being coy. So far her disposition has been par for the course in newborn land. She loves to eat, sleep, and be rocked.
She's a good sleeper at night. She wakes to eat but goes right back to sleep and hasn't been fussy during the wee hours. She's fussier during the day. That is fine by me, I can deal with a little crying during the waking hours.
Two things she is really good at: spitting up just outside the borders of the burp cloth and pooping in a clean diaper. That's my girl! She's also very good at being a delicious sugar lump who cannot yet escape the constant barrage of kisses she receives from her mama and her big brother.
Isla's life so far. It's harder than it looks.
I have to watch carefully so big brother doesn't give her the jostling of a lifetime before she gets good head control. (Because I'm sure at some point she will get the jostling of a lifetime.... I'd just like her to have a little
stability for her noggin.)