photographic evidence abounds

there. we have proof that i actually carried this child. of course, we don't have the benefit of randy's baby pictures, but when I look at her I just see Randy, Randy, Randy. At least now I can also see a glimmer of my freaking SELF, which is nice, considering I built her out of peanut butter and sinew.

This crazy baby can't figure out her schedule. The night before last, she was angelic: she snoozed for four hours, ate for an hour, and then politely nodded off again for another four-hour snooze. Last night? All bets were off. Randy brought her in at 1am, she ate, and then peered around the room like she had just noticed how interesting it all was. Seriously, it's eggshell walls and flat-white ceiling, kid; what's with the sudden interest in interior design? I thought she could look around while I snoozed, but that resulted in loud objections -- she wanted company, like a coked-up college roommate. Surely after her 4am feed she'd fall asleep? Not really. She kept topping off her fluids, then spitting up, then wanting to wash away the taste with a little more milk, which of course made her spit up... at a certain point I lost all cognitive ability, and I think we both passed out.

Which didn't stop us from taking a great stroll up the hill to see Emily and Harry; photo of that tomorrow. But let it be known that I have the most adorable, sweetest nephew, and Penelope is going to have a great time with her big ol' lug of a cousin.