Indy loves baths. No matter how crabby she is at the time, when I plunk her down in her little blue tub, she opens her mouth into her trademark ecstatic grin.
It's one of our only times totally just one-on-one, where we get to catch a few minutes together and play.
Somehow I blinked and she's almost 6 months old. I don't want her to get one day older, really. I mean, I can't wait to hear her talk, and watch her toddle around and put her blond hair in tiny pigtails -- but I'm not ready. She's my last baby, and I'm clinging to every single day of her infancy. I love her little fuzzy head and her every-present gummy smile and her delight in discovering she can make her voice do funny things.
A lot of people thought we were crazy for having three, and they're right of course -- it is madness a lot of the time. But man, she's such a reward.
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Only Turbo has it all figured out.
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