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Tonight, we tried some little ravioli's for Myla to pick up and feed herself. She seems to have a preference for that lately. She'll take a few spoonfuls of food from us and then the hands will break free and go in her mouth. So, she usually ends with cheerios or puffs. But tonight we thought something more substantial - yeah, right. Some ended up on her shirt, some on the floor (much to the dog's eternal happiness) and some smooshed all over the tray. I think she did get a taste of it, but then got too frustrated that they were so slippery and so she, yet again, finished with cheerios. As long as she's eating, right?
She fell asleep tonight holding tight to my finger as we were rocking. I've been waking up in the middle of the night lately with this weird feeling that I couldn't figure out until her little hand squeezed my finger. Its the feeling I had last year, when she was in the hospital. We had just gotten to hold her not too long before and it was around this time that she moved off the ventilator and onto high flow oxygen. That's what that feeling is, the same feeling of not being near her. That's why I can go back to sleep after I check on her, because there she is, sleeping in the next room with her diaper-butt up in the air, having little baby dreams. And not anywhere else. I hope that all the babies in all the hospital and all their moms can someday too feel that peace that comes with a happy baby in the next room.