31. Your strong and reflexive grasp cracks me up sometimes. Here you are deep asleep, but unwilling or unable to let go the strap of my top. I shifted around, stood up and sat back down, and even peeled your fingers off once, and each time you settled back in with a firm grasp on that strap.

32. Even at the ripe old age of six weeks, you still sleep soundest in my arms. Daddy's chest is acceptable but definitely second place. The swing can be okay for a catnap if you go in awake and fall asleep in it. If we set you in it while you're asleep, though, you wake up terrified that we've set you out on the prairie under a sign that says "free wolf food."

This one really isn't about you, but it'll matter to you one day.

Ellie thinks you are nifty. She's as delighted with you as she once was with Oliver (and let me tell you she was so delighted with him that 'dog' was one of her first words. Mama and Daddy were waaay down on the list, but it was very important to her to have a word for dog).

She laughs with glee and anytime you do anything, and she frequently entertains herself by talking about what you are doing or what you've done in the past. My current favorite is when she pauses what she's doing and exclaims, "Baby Jonana* hicced up!" or "Baby Jonana's changin' the diaper!" and giggles about it for a few seconds.

She also loves to peek inside the sling when I'm wearing you in it trying to get you to sleep or to get something done that involves two hands. And anytime she finds a pacifier, she brings it over to you and tries to put it in your mouth. You often have other ideas about what your mouth should be doing, but she's just as happy for you to spit out tha pacifier as she is for you to accept it and start sucking on it.

When we drive somewhere, she rests her right arm on the edge of your car seat and occasionally pats your leg. The other day she tucked the rolled-up blanket we use as a cheap thrifty head positioner right onto your shoulder next to your head.

* Ebery now and then she seems to try to pronounce your namecorrectly, but Ellie's been calling you Baby Jonana for six weeks now. She's even got us calling you Baby Jonana. If only we had more yellow outfits you might be in danger of being called Baby Banana for the first several years of your life.

30. Your first cold happened to you when you were three weeks old. You cough just like your mother and big sister, and then you make the most pitiful little mewling cry, just one little "Aa!" that clearly says, "That hurt!" Then you drop your head onto my chest with a little more force than usual.

Luckily, so far you seem not to have enough snot to need to be sucked out. Because we have no idea where the snot-snorfeler went.

29. At your two-week checkup you officially weighed in at 9 pounds, 2 ounces and were 21.5 inches long.

28. Your daddy can often calm you better than I can. You certainly quiet down and settle in the instant you hear him sing.

27. You do this odd thing where you shut your eyes and lie relatively still, sometimes for hours at a time. Apparently it's called sleeping and it's quite common among older children and adults, but we didn't really realize that some babies do it too.