Little miss is 8 weeks old. EIGHT. She celebrated by sleeping 7 consecutive hours last night. SEV-EN. Rhymes with HEAVEN. I may have woken up a few times before that just to, you know, make sure. It was such sweet relief after a few straight nights of waking up every 2 hours or so (although she still held onto her 4 hour "first leg" of the night thankfully). She's also been basically sleeping all day, so I'm guessing we're finishing up another growth spurt. Grow Millie GROW. (sidenote: we went in for the "weight check" with doctor paranoid and she weighs 9lbs! When the doc came in he was all, "So, why did I have you come in for a weight check? She's perfect!" And I was all, "uh IDK buddy but thanks for freaking me OUT!" GAH. But also, YAY.)
She's been smiling and laughing lots. Little kinda silent laughs, but laughs just the same. I cannot even begin to describe the bursting joy I feel when she smiles at me. Or laughs at something silly her daddy did. It just totally and completely ROCKS my world.
Her fussypantsmcgeeness has not exactly disappeared or anything, but it seems to be showing up less and less these days. So that's nice. She still feels the need to tell us when she approves of the current activity or not. A lot. And sometimes quite loudly. It's clear she's a lady with opinions, that's for sure. I can't imagine WHO she got that from...
She has now officially taken 3 bottles! Two from her daddy and one from me. I was worried we would have a hard time getting her to take one since the first effort was total fail central. But no need to worry--she's all about it. Bradley said that she won't look at him while she's eating (see evidence below), which is hilarious to me for some reason. Then I was worried that she would get nipple confusion and reject me and my boobs. But, again, no need to worry. She seems to have it figured out juuuuuuust fine. (This mom worry thing is OOC [out of control]--I really need to reign it in. EESH.)
She's, without a doubt, the coolest thing ever.