If Moira were to write a letter to Fionnuala it would go something like this:
Dear Fionnuala, urologist
I thought I should let you know, you are doing this baby thing all wrong. Do you want to know why you get left alone so much? You are just too damn happy. Mum comes and checks on you sitting in your swing or rolling around on the floor and you just give her a big smile and then she feels content enough to go back to what ever she is doing. Take it from one who has already been there – you need to demand her attention 24 hours a day. You want something? You cry for it! Scream for it! Don’t take no for an answer – although pausing for a boob break is acceptable. The rule with parents is that if you give them an inch they will take a mile. So smarten up little sister – you’re giving me a bad name.
Now here, have a million kisses on your fuzzy head.
I was searching through the archives wondering what I wrote about Moira at five months. If you are interested in reading about what I was going through then you can find it here and here. Reading back on some of those posts it is amazing that Fionnuala is here at all. I try not to compare the two girls but really – what else am I supposed to do? It is also kind of fun seeing where they are similar and where they are different. Thankfully Fionnuala doesn’t cry All The Time like Moira did. She’s my happy girl. A little too happy at times. Where Moira would wake me up in the middle of the night repeatedly with her crying this one thinks that every time she wakes up is playtime – she has wanted up at 4 a.m. every day for the last week and a half. She isn’t the best napper right now either but it doesn’t seem to bother her as much as it bothered (heck, still bothers) Moira’s temperment.
These days Fionnuala is all about blowing raspberries, rolling over and talking. And being cute. She does cute really well.