Three months! In some ways, it seems like we’ve had her forever, and in other ways – many other ways – I’m still trying to find my balance. She’s a perfect angel, though: beautiful, cheerful, portable, and affectionate. She loves her family, which is large enough that maybe she doesn’t know exactly who is in it, because she’s unusually friendly with not-family, too. She is very big – 15 pounds! – but she’s growing proportionately so she’s just pleasantly plump, not fat. She smiles all the time, and finds us amusing enough to giggle at at least once a day. She cries to be put down, not picked up. She rolls onto her side, but not all the way over. She thinks it’s funny when the dog licks her ear, or the cat rubs against her bare legs, but the sheep are scary with their sudden and uncalled for bleats. We still sleep together because she’s small and soft and snuggly, and I like the smell of her breath and the top of her head, and because she only makes a small snuffling noise when she wants me instead of crying. Evie seldom has to cry. She’s well attended. She loves kisses, giving and receiving, but mostly receiving. And she especially loves when we mimic her sounds, as if she’s thinking, “Finally! Someone I can communicate with!” She enjoys toys with faces, but occasionally gets frustrated with their unresponsiveness. It’s funny to hear her scolding them.
And I guess that’s Evie in a nutshell!