Just thighs and cheeks, please.

That's me manhandling those thighs. Don't have the camera cord here so I'll have to wait to post the 300 pictures I've taken so far.

It's Friday at 11:45pm. Technically, I haven't missed my self-imposed Melliterary Spew deadline. However, I have nothing to report. I worked not one moment on any bookish business. My goal of having a rough draft done in three months is actually a little horrifying(surprise, surprise I'm not on schedule) but I don't even care right now because this week has been so rich it could fill pages for the rest of my life.

I met a family member, my little nugget of niece, Savannah Jeanne. 10 1/2 weeks on this earth, and I am already so in love with this child that I can't remember life before her. I know it may sound strange---and I probably would make fun of someone for saying what I am about to---but I already feel like this little girl has a personality. She's funny and strong-willed and flirty and affectionate. And so, so beautiful.

She's big for her age---wearing clothes for nine to 12-month-olds already---but she's a smart, healthy, proportional baby. (She's almost as tall as she is chubby.) She smiles all day. It grows from a half smile (a "Kentucky side smile," we called it with Molly) to a full eye-squinting grin to a mouth-wide-open baby laugh. And she's not stingy with her laughs. (Keep laughing at your aunties jokes, kiddo, it will be worth it at Christmas and birthdays.)

Katie and Gary (her fiancee and baby daddy) call her Friar Jeanne because most of her hair is low on her head and toward the back like a balding man. "She has dad's hair," Katie said.

Cutest baby ever wouldn't be an overstatement and I refuse to admit bias. (Cherie, she looks like you as a baby.)

She farts like a beer-chugging, belly-painting football fan. The poor hon' has a sensitive stomach---Katie said the colicky weeks were brutal---and it all sounds so painful but also sort of hysterical that a little baby can make such noise. I hope any discomfort she might be feeling passes soon.

She also keeps staring at my rack. Never before---and this is saying something---have I ever felt my chest so inadequate.

I was supposed to leave tonight but extended my trip until Monday morning. Gary is away until next week at some point and it was too difficult to leave Katie alone for that length of time. It will be difficult on Monday, too.

She's a wonderful mom, my sister. That's the dimension of this trip I had hoped to write about here tonight. It's been an incredible experience to watch and work beside her these past few days. Weeks like the one I'm in now are the stuff of life-long memories. I would write about it now except I need to catch some Zzz's before Savvy J's 3:45am feeding. Katie (obviously) feeds her but I bring my blanket and pillow up to her bedroom to keep her company once I hear Savvy cry. The last couple of nights it's been Katie, Savannah, Ted (the cat), and me in a king size bed. (Ted and I get the bottom half of the bed.) Such fun and an amazing time to share with a sister.

So I hope to get back here, but it may be once I leave this little world of napping and rocking and diaper changing and strollers and bouncers and 3am slumber parties.

I have a monitor by my bed where my alarm would normally be. I never thought I'd have anything good to say about a baby's cry, but it's a nice change (for this week, at least) from empty beeping.

I look forward to seeing Dan, of course, but I will miss my little three-lady sisterhood and the fullness of this life.