the fastest week of our lives

We can not believe Stella is one week old.  A week!  Already?  I keep thinking she'll be sitting up before we know it, and walking, and getting married.  

So far Stella is easy to calm and soothe.  She grunts a little while she sleeps, makes adorable faces and is difficult to rouse.  Dad burps her better than Mom does.  She is remarkably gassy--and I'm not referring to the burped end.  She clearly prefers her thumb but we are switching that to pacifier (I am quite optimistic).  

She loves bath time.  My mom gave her her first sponge bath and kept calling her, "spa girl."  She looked positively euphoric when having her hair washed.   Her hair seems to be getting lighter and will hold a faux hawk.  Needless to say, I'm delighted.

She is a champion napper, like her mother, and doesn't need the "right conditions" to sleep.  She even slept soundly when I left the windows open and the temperature dropped.   In the middle of the night, as I pulled the covers up to my chin,  I remembered leaving her in a little onesie.  Was there even a blanket?  I hopped out of bed and sure enough, her extremities were chilly but she just kept snoozing.  Don't all CPS just yet.  I'm figuring this out.

Stella met her new friend, Ramona.  They shared a due date and have parents that like each other a lot.  She was feeling a little self conscious about her size (Ramona entered the world a little over 6lbs.)  I assured her that she'll have the last laugh as a 5'11' model but am trying to stop calling her "meatball" nonetheless.  Complexes start early.