I love my days with G. And I am also pretty scared of them. How can I entertain her, teach her, get her to sleep, get her to relax, get her to play by herself, get her to stop trying to pull my laptop screen back, and keep her alive another day, while also maintaining my own sanity? It's rather intimidating, the responsibility of it all. And if I fail, even if for just a second, and show my frustration with a curse word or a cry for help, I immediately feel bad, like a bad mother. I totally understand why my Mother used to throw up her hands and say "I am quitting motherhood!"

I have started singing the Hail Mary when I start feeling uptight with a squirmy, sleepless G. I figure the V.M. may know a few things. Being the mom to Jesus couldn't have been easy. But then again, "no crying he made," so maybe it wasn't that bad.

My girl is nine months tomorrow. She walks across the room. She pulls herself up. She giggles when her dad runs in and out and in and out of a doorway. She loves her mama. She hates peas.
Today my heart is way bigger than I ever knew it was. Or maybe it grew bigger in the past nine months. It is bursting out of my chest. This/G makes me a better, person, more sympathetic and quicker with a smile to a stranger. I wonder if it keeps growing as she grows? I dunno if I can handle that.