Welcome to #iPPP! Sarah at The Sunday Spill and I want to see your funny, your yummy, your heartfelt, your favorite phone photos of the week. All you need is a blog post containing at least one photo from any phone camera. Link up below!

The day she told me she was pregnant, I’ll never forget. It was a day that she had made the long (1+ hour) journey to my neck of the woods to hang out at our house, and I do believe I squealed in excitement when I heard the news. But I was also worried….worried that it might not result in a healthy squish of a baby, given her struggles in the past. The worries became fewer and farther between as the weeks went on, and I stopped getting a lump in my throat every time I saw a text from her.

Nine months went by much faster for me than her, and last Thursday, Mama Mash gave birth to the snuggliest squish of a boy. Three very long days later, I finally got to hold him in my own arms (and perhaps put up an unspoken force field denying anyone else, other than his mama with the food and his daddy with the clean diaper, access to the little guy for a solid couple of hours).

I could have held him all day, honestly, rubbing his softest of cheeks and silkiest of hair almost rhythmically (and a touch unconsciously at times). I’d forgotten just how magical the squeak of a newborn is, and how easily one falls into the bounce and sway of soothing when little wiggles threaten to shorten an honorary aunt’s “work” hours.

But no. As I know you’re all wondering (and I’ve been asked several times), this mama of four does not have the Baby Fever again. Yes, my hard-working ovaries got a little twitch and itch, but not enough for another….just enough to make me want to snuggle my (not so) littlest of men for a while.

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