I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that I think that one of the most insidious concepts being pushed upon us, by the world at large, is that our value as a human being is defined by our physical beauty. Thus, we spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about and attending to the shape of our body, the symmetry of our face, the colour of our hair, the shine on our nails, and on and on it goes.
My greatest heroes, the real, live, breathing ones, are mostly beautiful of soul and very imperfect (by the world's standards) in their appearance. And while I often bemoan my wrinkles, my extra pounds, and my aching body, I cannot let that be the focus of my life, because there are so many other things that are important to me.
That little rant being over, I cannot help myself with this baby.
She is physical perfection.
I shall have to spend a disproportionate amount of time, as this baby girl matures, reminding her that "it's better to be nice than pretty".
So, bear with me, the doting Nana, while I share the joy.
I think her personality, which is very sweet, shines through.