Time is whirring past me and Isabella is one month old today. Say wha?? ONE MONTH?! I'm trying to savor and drink in every moment I can with her. I won't get these moments again.

Sniffing her delicious baby head. Rubbing her barely there newborn fuzz. Snuggling her perfect porcelain baby skin. Ogling her tiny feet, fingers, and toes and gobbling them up. Listening to frantic gulps and wheezes as she downs a bottle. Hearing her ridiculously cute sighs. Watching her do the one-eyed pirate as she desperately searches for the nipple to suckle on. Her snorting as she does the one-eyed pirate. Giggling as she belches louder than most grown men after she finishes her bottle. Furrowing my brow with her as she ferociously grunts and groans to poop. My heart melting as she peacefully sleeps and lets out little mouse-squeaks. I don't even mind her sad little lamb bleats. I can't get enough of this little girl.
She has been a perfect baby since the minute she was born. No really...totally perfect. She never cries unneccessarily. After she eats I can lay her down beside me to blink her big blue eyes and take in the world around her, and she will lie there contentedly...even as her big sister comes and not so gently pets her on the head and shows her toys by plunking them down on top of her. She doesn't make a peep. I can then place her in her crib and after only a few minutes of squawking she is sound asleep for the next couple of hours. Until the next feeding when she wakes up and does it all over again. In the middle of the night after she's fed, she immediately goes right back to sleep. No baby bouncing or walking around the house for hours until she's finally decided to go back to sleep. She just...falls asleep. If she were every mother's first baby there would be a lot of baby-making going on.
I feel utterly and totally blessed that she is mine. And I am her mom. And it is such an honor.