I'm sitting here listening to Anna snore right now. Quite loudly, too.
And, just like the fan that I find absolutely necessary at night time, her snoring is soothing me to sleep. I'm getting drowsier and drowsier. Therefore, this post is going to be a little bit less than exciting, as I'm feeling kind of coma-like. My apologies.
However, one special thing to note:
On this, the twenty-sixth day of March, in the year two-thousand and ten, my little Anna put herself to sleep in her crib for a morning nap.
My goodness, she's advanced.
Seriously. She's only 7 weeks old and still quite little and in need of a lot of attention. But this morning, after I snuggled with her, read her a story and rocked her in the glider in her nursery, I put her down on her soft flannel sheet in her crib with her soother and she lay there, happy and content for a half an hour before peacefully drifting off to sleep on her own.
I am so lucky.
I'm sure if I have another baby, he or she will be the opposite of Anna. So I'm soaking up all the wonderful-ness that is Anna as much as I can.
She's perfect. She's the perfect baby. I have given birth to the perfect child.
Okay - enough with that. I don't want to get too annoying. Time for me to shut my eyes and drift off to sleep myself. To the sounds of baby snores.
My current view, looking down.