Eva can’t get enough of little Dee.    She gave her a bottle of breast milk, and “shhh shhh shhh’d” her until she fell asleep in her lap.     In a lot of ways, Eva was my first baby love.    She was the first newborn I ever snuggled with.    I still remember the moment Marissa called me to tell me she was pregnant (I was walking into the Best Buy in West Hollywood, and for some reason the minute I heard my sister’s voice, I knew exactly what she was calling to say.)   I was there when Eva was born, and when we found out we were going to have Dee, Eva was probably the person Scott and I were most nervous to tell.

Watching her with Delilah is incredible.   She carefully selected the toys she’d outgrown, placing them out in front of baby Dee, explaining to her all the best parts of the Farm play set she shared with her sister and the stuffed horses she keeps in a basket at Grandma’s house.    The massive love she shows this baby is amazing and Marissa tells me that sometimes when she tucks her into bed at night, Eva whispers that she misses Dee.

On Saturday, Eva played with her friend Rosie, the two of them collapsing in inexplicable giggles whenever anyone else entered the room.   Sunday morning, Sara and Dash came by for breakfast.   It was incredible to watch them all together, Miss Eves is such a big girl now, towering over the sea of little ones, quietly complaining that “everyone is moving everything I’m doing” as they played with Dee’s doll house (Eva and Lolo putting all the dolls to bed, while Dashy tinkered with the tiny toilet) only to grin and bear it when she was told that she had to let the little kids play too.

Eva introduces Dee to some new toys.

This picture cracks me up – Eva’s insisting Scott take pictures of each of Rosie’s figurines, and there’s Paloma in the background – copying what her sister does.

And a little more Lolo.   ‘Cause who can’t use a little pure joy disguised as a toddler with a curly mop in their lives?

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Can you believe I made that kid?    In the past few weeks, my sweet Dee has gone from tiny little person larvae, to full blown baby.    It’s awesome.   I knew this girl was going to have personality from the first time she played bongos on my cervix, and holy-baby-jesus-in-a-manger is it starting to show.    She’s a laughaholic.   I’m actually concerned she’s going to use up her whole life’s laugh allotments she laughs so much.   And she’s clearly a thrill seeker.   If you manage to give her a jolt, it’s followed immediately with a grin that I’m almost certain is meant to say “that was rad, mommy – do it again”.     I’m pretty sure she has my Mom’s sense of humor, which is to say, she loves her some potty humor.   (Sorry Mom, but it’s true.   SHART.   See?   You’re totally laughing.)   This morning, Delilah farted so loud it startled the dog and my dainty little princess laughed and laughed (and by laughed, I mean she did what Scott and I like to call “the Stevie Wonder” where she opens her mouth into a gigantic smile and sways her head from side to side.)

She also has Ace-Ventura like control over her sphincter.   (I can hear my future teenager now: “OHMYGODMOMICAN’TBELIEVEYOUMADEREFERENCETOMYSPHINCTERON THEINTERNETINPUBLICYOUWHORE” and Scott will be all “Don’t call your Mother a whore.”)  When she gets a diaper change, she always waits until the exact moment that I lift her bottom up off the mat to check her underside for errant mustard seeds, and just as I lean down she let’s it rip so that I am forced to try and simultaneously shield myself from flying poo-particles without compromising her safety on the changing table.    And oh, how it amuses her.

But despite the fact that she’s perfected the art of projectile vomiting, and makes a habit of peeing on the only pair of pants that fit me, this little girl is the light of my life.   I know, it’s so cliche:  I love my baby.    I’m totally that woman with pee on her pants who runs around screeching “MY KID IS THE BEST KID EVER” and everyone else is going “grab a bumper sticker and get in line, bitch.”   But here’s the secret.   My kid IS the best kid ever.   Because every time you ever sat in a Denny’s hung over on a Saturday morning while the kid in the booth next to you is poking at you with his syrupy fingers until his parents reprimand him and he throws a fit and has to be taken outside, and  you wonder to yourself “are all kids that annoying, or will it be different when it’s my kid?”  the answer is YES.   It will be different.   Because YOUR kid will be the best kid ever, and that kid?   Well that kid is someone elses’ sticky, grimy, projectile vomiting, pants-ruining problem.

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Well hello there.   It’s been a while, hasn’t it?    I’ve been thinking about you.   These past six weeks have flown by, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down and started to post a funny little anecdote or share a swoon as I’ve been getting to know and falling madly in love with this incredible little girl.    I must have 20 drafts of half-written posts about how she pooped in my hand (and on the towel, and like a million other places…) when we gave her her first bath, or how she eats until milk squirts out her nose (it’s total insanity when this girl eats.  It’s like The Exorcist is being performed at my [now ample] bosom.)   But then she coo’s (she has the most wonderful coo) or whimpers, or shrieks and I’m rushing off to make sure she’s fed, dry, burped, loved…happy.

Parenthood has been…well, like a whirlwind so far.   I feel like we’ve been in hibernation since we brought Deetles home, and yet we’ve been to two weddings and been brought countless Jewish deli platters (and amazing home made polenta, and awesome fried chicken nuggets…and all kinds of good stuff – we have great friends and family who we can’t thank enough) allowing Delilah to get to spend a lot of quality time with her Grandparents, Cousins, Aunts, and Uncles.    (Thanks to Jodi and Neal’s well timed – and BEAUTIFUL – nuptials, she even got to meet some of her New York Aunties.)   Still, the endless hours spent curled up in our living room as a new little family have been amazing – days I’ll treasure for the rest of my life.   And watching Scott give himself over to her completely is the most awesome thing.   I knew he would be an incredible Dad, but seeing him in action is just…there are no words really.

But I’ve missed you.    I started this blog about the same time we conceived Delilah, and being able to share my pregnancy (in graphic and often horrifying detail no less…) has been an unexpected and delightful side effect of having a baby (one of the few, as you know.)   And now I look forward to sharing my adventures in parenthood, in equally graphic and horrifying detail…with total strangers…via the internet.  …Does that make me a bad Mom?    Anyway…I’m back.

Here are a few of my favorite Delilah shots from her first six weeks.    (You’ll notice I’m not in any.   That’s because I’m still a fat ass.   The chins are much less excusable without the Belly to explain them.)

(Also, how cute is Delilah’s American Apparel hoodie?   She rocks it.)

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