Seven months ago today, I got to be a Mommy. That is, I was knocked over the head, sliced open, and when I came to there was an infant security bracelet around my wrist.

What changes in seven months. I'm so much more responsible now than I was then. I feel like I know so much more, am more capable of dealing with sudden crises, and am somehow ten years older. When she smiles at me I want to laugh. When she laughs I want to stand up and proclaim to the world that this is MY girl. That I have the most brilliant child in the world. She can laugh, she can smile, and she knows who I am.

In twelve years or so she's going to pretend that she doesn't know me when we're walking out together at the mall. She won't want anything to do with me when her friends are watching, and she'll have the worst taste in clothes and makeup. That's alright. She'll still be the chubby little girl with the wide blue eyes that makes every sucky thing that's ever happened to me worthwhile.