You know that magical moment when your baby suddenly lets go of the boob to which she has been almost permanently attached since the moment of her birth, looks at you for a second and suddenly breaks into her first toothless baby grin? You jump up with excitement, elated that the baby has finally recognised your existence. But then, the said baby emits a series of distinctive pooping sounds, which crudely bring you back to reality, making you realise that her smile probably wasn’t directed at you but at her pooping efforts, and actually wasn’t a smile at all but a random pooping grimace. The same scenario plays out day after day, taking its toll on your confidence, and making you question more and more your importance in this little pooping person’s life.
Thankfully, we are past that stage. These days, when Kvakushka smiles at me, I know she means it. Or at least, these days she smiles at me as often as at her pooping efforts. So we have these daily grinning sessions, when we grin and coo at each other, and it’s so magical that I wanna die. She also does this thing when she sticks her tongue out as she smiles widely and its ridiculously cute, but of course she’ll have to grow out of it by the time she is out there in the world because, I’m sorry, but that’s not how good girls smile, and we gotta start enforcing the good girl complex as early as possible here.
I don’t have any photographic evidence of her smiling because in those moments I’m usually too busy grinning back. But here is a frowny face instead:
Oh wait, here is actually half a smile:
In other news, I found that I need a lot more clothes than my baby because when she spits up, she manages to do it all over me and leave herself and her surroundings totally clean. Not that I want to get into the habit of comparing my children, but Koopa was never that good at aiming (still isn’t, heh). She’s like the champion spitter upper.
Now, if you will excuse me, I am off to attend another grinning session, possibly followed by another change of outfit on my part.