Josie is four weeks old today. I had a crazy dream last night that we had to put her back in the womb for some bizarre medical reason. Seems I have to worry about the bean in my sleep as well.

In the tradition of the indigenous tribal peoples of North American, a child must be given their tribal name at week four. When Josie gets upset, her face turns a beet red (her whole body for that matter), so we've tentatively dubbed her 'glows red in the face'. A few other names in the running:

gets milk from the boob
wakes parents at four
poops much in the pants

We hold the sacred naming ritual at midnight tonight. We offer a sacrifice to the great spirit as we burn a dirty diaper while chanting, "No, I think it's your turn to change her."