Being offline earlier in the week meant I missed Harlow's Little Weeks update. And seeing as how I had three glasses of wine last night and spent today a shattered woman, here is Little Weeks and The Little Daily in one. Genius!

That little profile seems familiar to me. I think it's mine. More and more, her face is changing and as it does, I see more of the features I had as a baby. Still, the influence of Bren is apparent in her little face – not in any specific way but more subtly, her expressions might remind me of him.

Naturally, I think it's the perfect gene mash….

Today I held Harlow in my arms, fresh from a nap and so warm against me. I carried her into the kitchen where the boys were milling around their father's feet and I was transported back to a time just before Harlow was born. I remember wondering how it would go, introducing a new baby into the rhythm of our days. Where would she fit in amongst the chaotic familiar of we four?

Somehow the puzzle piece of a daughter has slotted into place. Some days felt like we were jamming together mismatched shapes but for the most part, all our pieces fit with one another.

Some days we are more Picasso than Renoir but still, our picture is complete.