That girl is mine.

As daddy is away for a few days playing boss man in Chicago, Lil and I have had some special bonding time (read: her throwing tantrums, screaming, scratching, pinching, pulling hair, giving evils. Me: crying, yawning, eating crap and drinking wine).

It's been great (stressful). I've managed extremely well on my own (not coped at all). We've had fun (not enjoyed it).

We have tomorrow left and then he's back (HALLELUJAH).

But in all seriousness, it's taught me a lot. I'm more patient to start with. I couldn't just palm her off on him and go for a bath, I've embraced her tantrums (not had much choice) watched her for the longest time and realised that she's the most wonderful little nightmare ever (i've always known she's wonderful just never realised HOW MUCH of a nightmare).

I've had really bad baby blues for the last few months but now it's gone I am overwhelmed with just how madly I'm in love with her (I was always in love with her but the enormity of it has smacked me in the face). There is so much of me that I see in her! Tantrums, strops, pouting. I see more and more of it every day. She really is mine, isn't she?! It's finally sunk in that this isn't a dream (sometimes a nightmare), she is MY little monster.

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