Inherited Personality Traits?

This is what I found this morning when I went to wake Ella up. Where is she, you ask? I have suspected that she inherited my morning disposition, but these pictures give me solid evidence. She covered her head with the blankets because the lamp was on. I know this because her head was out when I got up to take a shower in the dark. While Dave is getting ready, he turns on the lamp and she starts scooting around in bed. When he kissed her goodbye, he adjusted the covers and did not turn off the lamp. Then I went to wake her up and found her completely covered. I know it's because of the light because I do the same thing when he turns the light on while I'm still sleeping.

In addition to covering her head to block the light when she isn't ready to get up, she also doesn't want a lot of talk in the mornings. Which is fine, because I don't either. She might manage a smile for me once she pries her eyes open, but she doesn't want any funny business. Just change the diaper, put on the clothes, and get down to eating. Once the tummy is full, she is happy to start her day, but don't expect anything before then.

It took Dave a while to learn that I am not a happy morning person, and the more you talk to me and the louder and peppier you are about it, the grouchier I become. I have to have a shower before there is any human interaction, and then I need it to be kept to a minimum. Now, if I'm left to wake up on my own time, I'm happy to start my day cheerfully, but when I have to get up with the alarm - keep your distance. Apparently, my daughter will be the same way. I'll be honest, I'm glad about it. I don't think I could handle another person in my house who jumps out of bed ready to rock at all hours of what can hardly be considered morning.

The sweet princess has also inherited a trait from her father. The man gives no warning of transistion when he is ready to eat/leave/do something, etc. He goes from happy, mellow hanging out to packed up and ready to leave a place in under a minute. It's amazing to me, and often a source of conflict seeing as how I don't get a warning when something is about to change and I'm often to slow to react. Like her father, the child can be happily playing or talking or singing one minute, and screaming-at-the-top-of-her-lungs mad the next because she's just decided she is starving to death. You will read that babies give cues before they start to cry, and that if you pay attention you can meet their needs before they start crying. Crying is the last cue. That was true when she was brand new, but now, the fits come virtually without warning. It's amazing to watch the transistion. I often tell her that tiny babies don't starve to death in a matter of minutes. She begs to differ.

I haven't posted any pictures in a while, so here are a few from around the house.

This is AFTER she has eaten in the morning, when she is content to chat with me while I eat.

I'm not sure if you can see it through the red gleam, but there is abject terror in Georgia's eyes here. I can see her thinking, "WHAT?! Why are you putting that thing on me? I can't be responsible for that!" I had to force her to stay while I took the picture. I tried to get a second one, but I had to catch the baby as George jumped off the couch. : )
No animals or infants were harmed in the making of this photograph. After the bath (her bath, not mine, obviously).