So 12 weeks have now passed since this little lady made her entrance to the world.
It feels like it ought to be a bit of a milestone, reaching this point. I suppose, in terms of her development, it is. Baby T is cooing and shrieking and wriggling. She is even making a funny little noise that sounds like it could be the beginning of a giggle. We're looking forward to hearing that!
But the past 12 weeks haven't been so hard for me that I'm glad to see the back of them - not at all. I know how incredibly lucky I am that she inherited her brother's 'good little sleeper' gene. From 7 weeks she was (occasionally) sleeping 10 hours at night and now at 12 weeks she goes down to bed anywhere between 6pm and 7.30pm and sleeps 12 hours from there. Some nights she will want a feed, but generally she's going straight through. Is she spoiling me or what?
I think one of the things I've been most unprepared for is the way E dotes on her. I thought the novelty of her would have worn off by now but it hasn't. He begs visitors to "come and look at my baby", he plays with her (sometimes a bit too, um, vigorously) on her playmat, he touches, pats, kisses, whispers "I love you" in her ear. It is incredibly sweet.
I think he's an amazing little lad and I am so proud of the way he cares for her. Long may it last.