This One Girl...

This little girl steals hearts...

Well, it's been a little over two months, and our little girl is thriving. Sure, her pediatrician thinks she could stand to gain a few ounces. But she is thriving, regardless.

In the past month, she's learned a few things:

1. Smiling. She is a smiley, happy, gurgly little baby. And we absolutely love that.

2. Pooping. By means that escape us, she is completely capable of getting poop up her back, down her leg, and all over us.

3. Rolling over. She can roll over. Child prodigy, right here. We make 'em right.

4. Diva-ness. Penelope Mae knows when she wants to be fed, when she wants to be rocked to sleep, when she needs to have her diapers changed, etc. And she makes sure the world knows when these events are to occur.

The best part about Penelope, for me, has been seeing all the small cues that have developed that hint at her personality, and the type of person she will be when she is older. It's an amazing process.

Also amazing is seeing my wife's maternal instincts. Elizabeth is an amazing, loving, caring, and nurturing mother. She puts me to shame with her awesomeness.

Day Seven...

At least, we think it's day seven. When you tend to only get five hours of sleep a day in random spurts, time flies fast.

For those of you who don't know, we experienced the arrival of a stowaway!

Penelope Mae Mosey was born on January 4th, 2013 at 5:28 PM

Penelope Mae Mosey on day one!

DNA test results are inconclusive, but this photo is proof of my fatherhood.

For those of you who have children, you will know what I mean when I say that the last seven days have been a whirlwind. I find it difficult to believe that in only seven days we have timidly transitioned from being an expectant married couple to being a family of three. It's a heavy draught for me to swallow, and I've even been here for all of it. I can only imagine the reactions of my acquaintances as the news has been passed round. Outright shock and denial. Me, a father?

Shocking as it may seem, it is fact. And each morning and night I marvel at the beauty and miracle that is my baby daughter. She is currently sitting on my chest as I lounge on our sofa writing this blog. I'd like to imagine she is flattered that I am writing about her, and is voicing her opinions in each coo and moan.

This blog post has been Penelope Mae-approved.

In these seven days, we've had a lot of drama in The Flat (our affectionate, Brit-inspired name for our apartment). Without going into too much detail about breasts and feeding off of them (for all you little boys and girls out there that might cry "ICKY!!"), there has been a bit of trouble in paradise. Whether because of some oversight or mistake on our part or our daughter's, Penelope has not been gaining the weight her pediatrician hopes that she would. She was and is a petite little thing, but the desired flab just won't stick. We've had two appointments in three days, with another scheduled "weigh-in" tomorrow morning. If we don't have our desired results, we may have to opt for some more intensive feeding options.

As far as we can tell, the problem does seem to lie with Penelope. When it comes time for a scheduled feeding, she becomes violently agitated. She kicks and screams, and even when she latches, she lets go. Then, in a fit of frustration, she cries that she lost her latch. It's a vicious cycle, and while it does showcase her remarkable lack of self-awareness (a hallmark of seven-day olds, I imagine) it also reveals her independence and stubbornness, both qualities I tend to value. However, I tend to value these quite less when they prevent me from sleeping at 3 in the morning.

Other than said drama, Penelope is doing extremely well. Beth and I like to look for different ways that we believe that she is better than all the other children her age, and some that are older. We can already tell that she's a smart girl, much like her mother. And she has my fingers and toes. We love our little hobbit/Chipotle burrito/munchkin.

Penelope Mae on day seven!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

Meanwhile, one month later...

So we're having a girl. At once I'm validated, ecstatic, exuberant, and...

Scared the hell out of my mind.

A girl. How in the world do I raise a girl? It's a daunting task for a guy who has only brothers and very few cousins growing up.

Well, to be honest, I know how to raise a girl. I just love her mother completely. And her, of course. But it's still a daunting task for a man whose every problem or obstacle in life can be dealt with by a Star Wars quote. Now, as several keep reminding me, she will be her own person (I am EXTREMELY excited to see who she will become) and like her own things. BUT they will probably be girly things. And girly things and I don't get along so well.

This may not bode well for my sanity...

Her name is going to be Penelope Mae Mosey. It's an amazing name, Beth and I are extremely proud of it, and anyone who says otherwise is a git. I keep reminding Beth that I do actually have a chance to change that name when she is blessed. However, I fear for my life should I go rogue and name my baby daughter something to the effect of Door. Or Leia. Yeah, I'm fairly certain I'd lose an eye or an ear for the name Leia Kenobi Mosey. Bad idea.

At this point, Beth is doing pretty well, considering the horrors Penny has put her through thus far. On average, she voids her stomach contents (that's a fun way for saying something nasty) about once a week. So that's good. Oh! and she'd hate for me to say this, but she's also actually gained weight. And I've lost a tad. Huzzah!

We've begun to feel Penelope kicking. Or clawing. Or headbutting. It's really hard to tell what she is in reality doing because she moves a LOT. Apparently Beth has a trapeze installed in her uterus for our little acrobat. When we were in the midst of the latest ultrasound, Penny was upside down. Not only that, but she refused to show her face to the camera. She could be shy. Or the biggest drama queen ever. Come to think of it, that is a lot like Beth when she doesn't have any makeup on...

Little Penelope Mae Mosey.

In other news, Beth has been... growing. Her belly, yes. But also her ankles and her feet. She likes to call them her cankles, as they can become one conjoint mass. Admittedly, she really shouldn't have worn heels the other day, and she paid the price. It was almost a week before her feet deflated to their proper size and shape. Boy am I glad for small favors. Like a Y-chromosome.

Mommy is great. Baby is great. Daddy is... rocking back and forth in the corner.