My daughter is asleep in her pac.k and play. She's eleven days old, and each day is a new adventure.
She makes the funniest expressions-- her yawns are as big as her entire face, she looks extremely suspicious when she first starts eating (seriously, it's like she's thinking every time "What is this? What is this? I don't under... ah, there, I get it now..."), and she apparently finds the light in my dining room more compelling than just about anything on the planet.
She is eating up a storm (ten day growth spurt, perhaps?) and sleeping for at least a few consecutive hours each night; it's amazing what you can do if you're getting at least a little sleep. I'm br.east and bottle feeding; I'm just not producing enough, and she's hungry. (Any br.eastfeeding crusaders, please take your guilt trips somewhere else-- I'll do what I need to do to keep her fed. The lactati.on consultant at the hospital acted like formula was the Devil; I feel it's a necessary evil in some cases.)
She has incredibly long fingers and toes-- those are not from me, that's for sure-- and big eyes that haven't yet decided if they'll be brown or hazel. She also, unsurprisingly, has a full head of hair. That, she gets from me. ;)
She's a happy baby all day, but gets fussy in the evenings and there's not much you can do to make it better. If you want to visit, come midday (unless you don't mind a fussybudget baby)!
It's scary and fun and amazing, and she's wonderful. I'm a mom. It's a whole new world.