Quinnstagram

I wasn't on instagram until Quinn was born, at which point I realized that all the Netflix marathons in the world were not going to fill the midnight hours spent nursing and bouncing so I wised up and joined. I was still trying to understand what this IG thing was all about when I posted my first few pictures of Quinny-girl with the hashtag quinnstagram. Now if that wasn't the most original (and brilliant) hashtag that ever existed my name is not Heather Feather Wigginton. Uh... So... Right. It's a miracle that anyone can ever come up with something truly original because it turns out there were TONS of pictures already stashed in the quinnstagram folder, including our personal favorite of a ripped black bodybuilder named, you guess it, Quinn. Not that I didn't want my pictures of Quinny seen next to Macho Quinn, but, well, James didn't! So, now I file her pics under boring old #quinnisabel but whenever I think about how creative my quinnstagram hashtag was I smile real big.

Speaking of smiling real big, Quinn:

I may have already mentioned that we sometimes call her Quinner Quinner Chicken Dinner, but I have assuredly not already mentioned that more often than not these days she is sporting the scrunched-nose smile that all my littles have worn and it melts me every time. Plus, T won the big brother award for pushing her in the swing and making her century.

This baby is bu-sy, my busiest by far. Her brothers were more or less blobs when they were her age and here she goes crawling and standing and walking along furniture. And don't leave a darn little thing on the ground EVER. She sees the tiniest things from across the room and then crawls like the wind and tries to put them in her mouth before I get to it (stickers, papers, balloons, sticks, lego, you name it). I never had to baby proof all that much with my boys, but this girl is trouble!

Quinn likes to play with the big kids at the park instead of hanging in the stroller the whole time, obviously. And holy hannah is she looking big (and cute) doing it.

There's nothing sweeter than a sleeping Quinny, especially since nighttime is nearly the only time she ever gets it. Forget #quinnstagram, I need to start filing her under #worldsworstnapper.

I don't know why it has been so surprising that she's so independent already (she clearly doesn't get that from me) but it has been shocking! Just this last week she was fussing on the bus until I gave her her own seat, and then it was nothing but smiles. And then she saw her brother kneeling on the chair and looking out the window and she reached out to him relentlessly until she was right by his side watching the city race by. I love her fire, and yet I sometimes fear her fire!

Oh hi. I mean, bye!