Feeling groovey.

It's hard to remember a time when Zoey wasn't a smiling, cooing, arm flailing little person. Ellyn and I are constantly talking to Z, and using a small vocabulary of sign language, and she's responding with lots of grins and even more eye contact. The girl loves to hear us talk (good thing with me as her dad, right?). We know she doesn't really understand us, but the interaction makes it feel like we're conversing with our daughter. A definite highlight of the day.

Now that she's a bit older, Zoey is taking to her swing and bouncer more and more. E and I are trying to get a daily routine in place for her where she plays on different mats and swings and stuff throughout the day, with naps and feedings marking the time in between. We've also been giving her some "alone time" each day, so she can sort out all those important baby thoughts. All in all, it's an approach that works for Z; except when it doesn't. Then we just shrug, mumble "eh, she's only 7 weeks old," and try something else.

All in all, life is good with our mellow little girl. She's sleeping longer during the night, and she's settling into two hour and three hour feeding patterns during the day, depending on the day. All that feeding is paying off, as El and I just yesterday asked each other if we thought she was getting noticeably heavier. I can still take her in arm-wrestling, though.