Baby, knock on wood, has had to be woken up for her middle of the night feeding. I know! She stayed the same weight at her check up yesterday so we're amping up ounces as best we can and will go back tomorrow. She's a sleeper... I remember those days with Reagan, strippin' her down, tickling her feet, anything to keep her awake to feed her.
At the appointment I got the comments my friend Kristin warned me about. I'm standing there to check out and this lady comes up to the counter. She asks how old my baby is? Umm... I looked a bit like a loser for not knowing, I'll get on that for future questions. She's 5 days old. She peeks around the counter at me and says, "Wow and you're already in your jeans." OH! "I didn't have her, we're doing cradle care." Then of course Chatty Cathy (sorry mom) had a lot of info to share about how she wants to do that one day, when her youngest is potty trained. In my head I said, Or much, much longer than that! I sneak away and upon my return she looks at me with a sweet smile and says, "You're a saint." Oh, no, no I'm not. But I did walk with a bounce in my step thinking I might request you all to call me Saint Kristina from now on, ha.
I want to share one quick thing with you. The kids have known of this possibility since we've been going through the process. At the home study the kids were asked how they felt about a baby in the house. On the day we were going to bring her home, Tennison wrote this:
Yet he already knew she...
Since then he has asked if we can adopt her. I said, No buddy, her new family needs her. "Well, it's good that she's getting so much lovin' here then." Yes, so good!
That little letter from Tennison is so sweet!
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