Damn FedEx. Damn them, I say! My camera made it to their Norfolk distribution site on Saturday - only about an hour from Williamsburg - and the website says I won't get the camera until Tuesday! Bah! Humbug!

The weekend... could have been worse, but it definitely could have been better.

Penny picked Saturday to be the Angriest Baby Ever. We don't know why. She didn't seem to be in pain. We fed and changed her according to her demands. She didn't want to sit up. She didn't want to lie down. She didn't want to practice standing. She didn't want to be left alone. She didn't want to be held. She didn't want to be walked around the house. She didn't want to stay in one spot.

And she wasn't just fussing. It was full-blown crying fits, with lots of screaming.

When she was first born, she couldn't scream very loud. Her screaming sounded so small and pathetic that the chief reaction it aroused in me was a sort of pity-filled amusement.

She's outgrown that, now. It's a pretty darned annoying sound. Matt and I were willing to do just about anything for her to make it stop, but we couldn't figure out what she wanted.

Nursing quieted her sometimes - and except when she was actually hungry, she didn't seem to care whether there was milk for her or not. But there's a limit to how long I can nurse her at an empty breast, and she wouldn't take any kind of pacifier as a substitute.

We did discover a Magic Trick to shut her up - if we put her in her carseat and hung her mini-mobile from the handle, the crying would slowly subside as she got distracted by the mini-mobile, and in about fifteen minutes, she'd be asleep.

But of course we couldn't leave her in there all day. We had to feed her and change her. And if she'd slept all day, she certainly wouldn't sleep at night.

Then, a couple of hours before bedtime, she cheered up a little. The night was normal. And then Sunday morning, after an hour or so of her normal happy behavior, it started up again. It was like reverse colic.

In vague desperation, we turned to the medicine cabinet. (In our defense, she was not only crying, but spitting up and coughing, so she probably was, in fact, in need of her decongestant.) So she spent most of Sunday being fussy, but not as furious as she'd been Saturday.

We had plans to have dinner with Chuck and Anita, so we rather nervously packed Penny up and headed out. As it turned out, Penny's reverse colic kicked in again, and she either slept or was relatively calm for the whole visit. Thank goodness.

Chuck and Anita's daughter Heidi was a real hoot, though. She's four years old, and thinks babies are The. Most. Awesome. Thing. In. The. Universe.

Pretty much from the instant she saw Penny until we'd driven out of sight, Heidi's eyes were firmly fixed on Penny. While Penny was sleeping before dinner, she sat on the floor next to the carseat and petted her hand and sang little quiet lullabyes to her. We had to stop her multiple times from rocking the carseat in an attempt to help Penny sleep.

She would turn to the nearest adult and say, "She's really pretty, isn't she?" When that adult agreed that Penny was very pretty, she would turn to the next adult and say, "Isn't she very cute?"

She offered advice, too, which nearly had Matt and I rolling on the floor with laughter.

While Penny was sleeping: "I think she wants to wake up and play with me." Also while Penny was sleeping: "I think she wants to eat now." In the midst of a diaper change: "I don't think it's a very good idea to change her diaper." While Penny was awake in her carseat: "I think she wants me to hold her." While we were eating dinner: "I think she wants some carrot."

Penny fell asleep while we were eating, and Heidi sat on the floor next to the carrier to watch her. "I saw her ear move! I think she wants to wake up!"

"No," I said, "I think she's just dreaming. What do you think she's dreaming about?"

"I think she's dreaming about all of us!"

Two minutes later: "I think she's dreaming again."

"What do you think she's dreaming about this time?"

"A princess named Heidi. Like me."

Chuck and Anita had to warn Heidi multiple times not to touch Penny's face - to only touch her feet or her hands. Heidi picked up a stuffed dog and showed it to me. "This is my baby."

"She's very pretty," I said. "What's her name?"

"Sally."

"That's a pretty name. Can I see her?"

"You can only touch her hand," Heidi said seriously, and held out Sally's paw for me to pet.

--Liz