I realized yesterday, there had been no pictures of Baby Dagny with her eyes open since that fleeting time on Saturday night when she was only a few minutes old.
Oh wait. I guess there was one on Sunday, the one in which she gazed out of the hospital window and contemplated the meaning of life. Scroll down.
Anyway it was a situation I knew must be quickly rectified.
So it was that as Dagny chilled in her purple polka-dotted bouncy seat -- a gift from her great-grandmother -- looking all alert and wise, I felt she should be placed in the sunny doorway and photographed.
What you need to understand about Baby Dagny is, she is a very good little child.
I carried her outside this morning at five o'clock, and she heard the birdies begin to sing and saw a few remaining bright stars, plus a glowing slice of waning gibbous moon. For the first time!
She hardly cries at all except when she is hungry, which is basically all the time but then, who isn't?
Hungry all the time, I mean.
Or rather -- in Dagny's case -- a combination of that and being continually blissed out on the nearer-than-nearness of her doting mother.
She is a classic example of the time-tested, never-improved-upon, infant-perfected dream-all-day, dine-all-night mode.
But she's as calm as she is cute, and that's really saying something. Don't you agree?
Soulful too.
Stay tuned for many outfit changes -- Aunt Erica brought home yet another new summer ensemble yesterday, after a trip to Target -- and various additional props and accoutrement.
Baby Dagny the most precious, the most adored, the most delectable of infant miracles, bids you Happy Thursday.
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The best baby-sitters, of course, are the baby’s grandparents.
You feel completely comfortable entrusting your baby to them for long periods,
which is why most grandparents flee to Florida.
= Dave Barry =
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