My baby is six weeks old already. The other night I got up to feed him and it felt like he had gained five pounds. He changes so quickly.
The weeks have flown by. I'm always surprised when another Friday comes around. But at the same time life has slowed down significantly in terms of what is "accomplished" every day. I now measure my tasks in terms of what I can get done while the baby sleeps or where i can go between feedings (although I'm getting more used to nursing while we're out). It's a lot less than before, but I don't seem to mind.
It's a joy to watch him do anything and everything he does is cute - even his offended cry when he pulls the corners of him mouth down. I love listening to his squeaks and chirps and little giggles. I especially love feeding him when he's wide awake and his blue-grey eyes sparkle up at me. He smiles a lot lately and little dimples appear; he has two dimples but they rarely are seen at the same time.