I shouldn’t gloat. But I have to admit I am taking guilty pleasure in the fact that when I left Baby Bug with Toby for a half an hour today while I ran to the store, she screamed bloody murder the entire time. When I got back she stopped crying and wouldn’t let Toby get near her. He tried to make goo goo eyes at her while she snuggled into my shoulder and just the sight of him sent her into another attack of the shrieks. It’s like he pinches her or something when I’m not looking.

She loves me, that little squirt. I guess all the one-on-one time I’ve been spending with her day in and day out is paying off. It’s an amazing feeling to know that I’m her mom. I’ve never been anybody’s mom before. I’ve been the super aunt… but this is a whole new level of being loved. It blows my mind.

Baby Bug has a lot of personality. She’s very determined and she knows exactly what she wants. This causes me a lot of frustration all day long. If I want to get anything done I have to figure out how to do it and pacify her at the same time. If she decides that she wants to be draped over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes then I have to drape her over my shoulder until I think my arm is going to fall off. Nothing else will do. She won’t play nicely on her blanket on the living room floor, her crib gives her the heebie jeebies, her bouncy chair that vibrates and plays music is a complete waste of money and her changing pad is a fun place to hang out but I can’t leave her there without worrying that she’ll flip herself off it and face plant onto the floor. I’m getting very good at doing things with one hand.

But when she finally does fall asleep in my arms at exactly seven-oh-one, she is the most adorable little lump of soft breathing marshmallow baby fluff that you ever rested your eyes upon. I completely forgive her for being so difficult all day long.