The other day, my dad said that even though he knew the last few weeks had been exhausting, he hoped that Mike and I were taking a few moments here and there to enjoy our final baby. At the time I was like, "I am just trying to survive," but what he said stuck with me, and I did start making a conscious effort to savor the little things about James that I want to remember -- those fleeting newborn bits that are gone in a blink.
I love that strong newborn grip:
I love his hands, which look so big compared to the rest of him:
I love his wrinkly feet and flakey baby skin:
I love how he has extra skin to grow into (and a fine layer of soft baby fuzz on top of it):
Wrinkles and fuzz
I love the perfect curve of his ear:
Perfect little ear
I love the current color of his eyes:
I love how he looks right before he sneezes:
And of course, I love all of his hair:
But most of all, I love how he fits on my chest, and how he settles with his ear just above my heart.
He is our perfect final baby.
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