We were hanging out with our girl this afternoon when I realized another piece of the puzzle that is Jane had fallen into place: she sleeps exactly the way I do.
I wake up most mornings with my head on the mattress and my arms on the pillow. Sarah does it, too. What other traits are going to emerge in these two? Will they have Tom's hand-eye coordination, my magpie tendency to pick up shiny bits of trivia? Will they have silver tongues like their dad? Or dirt under their fingernails like their mom?
It's interesting how perspective so entirely colors perception. People who only know Tom and me mostly see Tom in Jane (and my frowns). I see my dad. Will she have his sense of fairness? His weakness for cute European cars that spend more time in the shop than on the road?
And what will be uniquely her? What will appear in these girls that defines their essences?
I can't wait to find out.
In the meantime, Jane continues to kick ICN ass. They're starting to wean her pressure settings, and her nitric is down to TWO. And moving day is coming. The moment she's off the nitric -- and I mean that literally -- they're whisking her off to her glamorous new carpeted digs. If it weren't for that machine they'd have moved her today. The train of Jane's gear was a little too long for the RT's comfort, and I can't blame her. Too many turns, too many tubes, too many opportunities for things to go dreadfully wrong. But it's coming, invisible readers. It's coming soon.