Today is my day to stay home with Laurel while Jon goes to work. As I'm sitting on the floor playing with her, I realize how much she's changed. She's getting so big so fast, it's sad. When we first brought her home she was so small she didn't even fit into her swing. Now, her legs hang over the edge and she fights to stay in a constant sit-up position so that she can see what's going on around her. I'll miss these days. In a way I already do. She's changed so much just in the past month, everything is different. Suddenly she can sit up on her own and play by herself. She likes eating food now (she gobbles down apples and bananas like they're going out of style).

She's sleeping right now, which is good. But part of me can't help but watch and wait for her to wake up so I can play with her again. Everyone keeps telling me how this is the the perfect age, and in a few months I'll wish I could have this back. I guess people equate the baby being mobile with being miserable. But I can't wait. I can't wait to see what she has to say and I can't wait to see her crawl and walk. Of course now it sounds like I want her to hurry up and grow more...which I don't. But I guess the excitment of her growing up counteracts the sadness of her changing so quickly.