The Tadpole is getting bigger. She was four weeks old on Wednesday. I thought about posting--honestly, I did. But she's been very fussy this week. I think she may be having a growth spurt, but we'll find that out on Monday at Mommy Group or Wednesday at the One Month Checkup.

She has spent much of the week in her pouch sling (I have this one and another from this company that were gifted to me before the baby was born), which is good because it generally keeps her from screaming, but still allows me to do some things with my hands. Like type this post :) Or knit. Or, God help me, eat something. Her father is wondering if we shouldn't be calling her Roo instead.

I didn't realize that part of the reason women drop so much weight when breastfeeding is because the little tyrant does not want to be put down long enough so that Mommy can restock the stores, so to speak. I've lost about 30 pounds in the past four weeks, and ironically look better than I've looked in years. Well, except for the dark circles under my eyes. And the fact that I really need a haircut, but am not sure how to manage that with Baby. I was out of maternity clothes two weeks after the baby was born and am now finding that my pre-maternity pants are too big. However, I am reluctant to buy new pants because I'm not sure where exactly I'm going to end up.

The Beloved suggests more ice cream.

Anyway. The Tadpole continues to be lots of fun when she isn't channelling Mussolini. We try to go out somewhere every day--mostly because Mama needs O-U-T at some point or she becomes very squirrely. And we're finding that if Mama is happier, Tadpole is happier. Funny, that. Last week, we had lunch in an actual restaurant for the first time with Laura, who is a very brave soul. Laura was also the photographer for this outing, so we thank her hundreds of times over for the pictures.

She also captured pictures of Baby's first yarn crawl. You can't start them too young...

Here we are at the Yarn Basket:



And at Yarn for Ewe:



As you can see, The Tadpole already charms people wherever she goes. According to her Grandma (my mother), I have been blessed with a child just like me--absolutely perfect and angelic when around other people, and saving up all nightmarish behaviour for her Daddy and me. Ah, parenthood.

But I forgive her. Seriously, how could you not forgive this face?