I feel like I've been avoiding writing a blog post lately because I'm afraid of boring everyone by waxing poetic about the joys of motherhood. Like the smell of a baby's hair right after her bath. Or those first smiles when she's actually looking at me and not sleeping. Or being able to calm her fussy cries with a few magic movies (God Bless Harvey Karp, the man is genius). And yes, her rear end is really as soft as the rumors about baby butts would leave you to believe. Once I get started, sometimes I can't stop.

But of course, there are those other things, too. Like when I feel like a rock in the bed and she's woken me with flailing arms and legs and pathetic whimpers that turn into ear-numbing screams, demanding a diaper change and a feeding when all I want in the world is for her to change her mind and go back to sleep. There's the times when she's not hungry or wet and the magic moves aren't helping. Worst of all, there are those occasions when I have to stand by and try to comfort her when medical people are doing things that are hurting her (things involving needles of one type or another), all for the sake of helping her. Those are the times when the two of us usually end up crying together quite a bit.

But if the question is "how do you like being a mom?" then my honest answer is that this whole package is, without a doubt, the best thing that's ever happened to me. She is amazing. I like toting her along with me, almost everywhere I go. (Although it definitely takes me two to three times longer to do things sometimes. Nadine and I got to spend an awesome 25 minutes in my car tonight in the Crossroads while I fed her, changed her, fed her again...) In any case, she's my best little buddy.