What?

Doesn't everyone dress their toddlers in Ronald Reagan T-shirts for Gymboree? Well, they should.

The trick to getting enough sleep around here has been to go to bed at, say, 7pm. Sorry Hub-D, I'll see you in about, uh, four months. But Baby C needs to be ministered to 2-3 times every night -- either feeding, or changing a big stinky diaper, or bicycling her tiny little legs to get all her wee farts out. And then I start thinking in the middle of the night, and I lose several hours that way.

Baby C ends up smooshed in my arms by the early morning hours every day -- that's the best way to get her remaining gas out -- tight on her side in my arms, and she sleeps peacefully until EIGHT O'CLOCK. So, hey, I'm not going to question it.

Also, for her morning nap today, I put her in Gigi's old crib. We just raised up the mattress, so it was ready for her arrival. I didn't hold out much hope that she'd actually sleep, but after I replaced her pacifier three times, she completely conked out. In a strange crib!? In a room previously unknown to her. I can't get over how cooperative this child is.

She's alert, she's beautiful, she's cheerful, and... she's waking up. Whatta gal!