Okay. So I wrote a whole entry about what a perfect little girl she is. How perfect she seems. How perfect she looks. How perfectly she's growing. All her learning actions and little baby parts and her laugh and smile and those big big blue eyes -- perfection. Then it got lost in the ether of the Internet. It was very poetic and lovely and gushing and all that stuff. You'll just have to trust me.
She still has her moments, believe you me. Like this morning on my run where I strapped her into her stroller just to have her fuss and then cry and then scream. I took her out of the stroller and walked home with her in my arms where she was happy until a block from home where she commenced the screaming until I held her juuuust right for her to fall asleep while pacing the living room. Does there have to be so much drama to go to sleep?
But she's still so darned adorable (I guess maybe it's in that puzzling you're-my-daughter way), and I still want to take her out and set up a booth where people can simply come ogle her and ooh and aah. Perfection.
