It's been four weeks since Abigail was born and our life now revolves around a recently weighed in seven-pound ten-ounce bundle of fluff. Her feeding schedule gives us about two and a half contented hours and then she turns into a devil child.

Little in our lives is the same. Even the smell of the penthouse has taken on the perfumed baby odor that now clings to us. My mother told me it's a combination of baby shit and baby vomit that makes the scent. I have my doubts but who ...