Lilah smiles

Lilah smiles.  That’s what she does.  She also eats with intense concentration.  And crawls with purpose.  And laughs with abandon.  Every now and then, she fusses, but only if there is something that she needs.

What she doesn’t do is make much noise.  We know she can babble, but most of the time, she is quiet, watching her brothers – Big Mouth and Bigger Mouth – as they tear about and talk over each other and ask innumerable questions.  I worry about it, because a child who doesn’t like to talk is an anomaly around here.  But, her hearing checks out and she seems bright enough, so we figure she is just a quiet kid.

Huh.  A quiet Rosenbaum.  The concept may take some getting used to.

She is a delightful baby.  People stop me on the street to tell me she is delicious, and that is about the best word I can think of for a baby with cheeks like peaches.  She complains so little that sometimes we forget she might need something, and I feel guilty because then I’ll play peekaboo or take her for a walk to see the flowers and she is so delighted that I worry the rest of the time she was just sitting there, hoping someone would do something with her.  Probably not, since most of the time she is crawling around, pulling pots out of the cabinets or books off the shelf.

She is easy.  Oh, so easy.  She sleeps well, eats well, and cuddles well.  We just have never had such a low-maintenance baby.

When she is thirteen, I think we are in for it.