Twelve

Strong

Stubborn

Sure of herself

Precious little girl growing up too fast

I remember her as a small child, playing dress-up. Princess one minute, rock star the next. Dorothy in sparkly red shoes.

Singing, dancing to the music of her soul.

Fascinated by life. Captivated and captivating.

She once snuggled and slept on my chest just as her baby sister now sleeps. She still likes to snuggle, just don't tell her friends.

Her world is still black and white. There is no gray area. A behaviour is good or bad. A person is good or bad. She will accept you and love you, or cut ties and never look back.

Our first baby girl, the sole light of our lives for so long.

When did you grow so tall?

When did you get so worldly?

Yesterday you were collapsed in sleep in satin princess jammies, looking at a car magazine. Today you are reading Twilight and discussing the hotness of Taylor Lautner with your new BFF.

I want a pause button. I want a rewind button.

But most of all, I want you to continue to grow into this amazing young lady I see emerging.

Baby love

The smell of lavender

Cool floor

Soft cotton rugs

Blinds closed - dim room

Poetry on the wall

Flowers everywhere

Tiny dresses hanging in rows

Peace

Relax

Chubby little cheeks

Bright blue eyes

Soft fair skin

Softly curling whispy red hair

Teeny, tiny toenails

Gigantic gummy grin

Smile that lights up her whole face

Baby kisses

Belly laughs

Happy chuckles

Cuddles

Sleepily snuggling into my chest

Warning: Obects in windshield are closer than they appear

I have had the worst best luck the past few weeks while commuting to and from work. Seriously - I called my husband last night on my way home and asked him what I could have done to set all of this off! Luckily I have not been hurt (yet) but each time has been such a close call!

It all started several weeks ago. I had dropped the girls off at the babysitter's house and was almost back to the interstate. I was on a very busy five lane highway with TONS of semi traffic. Imagine combining the best retail/restaurant area on this side of the city, two major travel centers, a hospital, and so much just 'in general" traffic and and interstate ramp or four and you can imagine where I was. There was a pickup truck up ahead of me that was loaded down like someone was moving. All of a sudden, a metal shelving unit (the kind sold for workshops and garages) comes flying off the truck, and into the air straight at my car. I brake, and it crashes to the road several feet in front of me. I slam on brakes (miraculously I wasn't rear-ended) and close my eyes. I stop LITERALLY an inch from the metal. The truck is way ahead at this point, at the traffic light. I start honking my horn like crazy (like that's effective. My horn has small-car syndrome. It sounds like a kids' toy.) The driver sees what happened, and backs up and removes his shelves from in front of my car. Also the police car in the parking lot next to the street saw what happened - thankfully for me, because he blocked traffic so I was able to back up and go around and get to work. Not so thankfully for the pickup driver, who was detained on the side of the road.

Then, a few weeks later, I was driving down the interstate headed home from work. Rush hour, lots of traffic. We weren't quite to the first backup spot yet, so traffic was actually moving at normal speed. There was a car in front of me, and a truck pulling a trailer in front of that car. All of a sudden, guess what happens... a 4 ft by 4 ft piece of what I thought was glass went flying up into the air.... and then started plummeting. Straight at ME. I had flashes of what a plate of glass could do at that speed/distance. I panicked. Hard. The car in front of me swerved onto the shoulder, but by that time the sheet of glass was crashing to the highway. I also went to the shoulder, but ended up driving over part of it. Thankful again for brakes on cars - I was able to slow just enough that it hit right in front of my car. And it turned out to be plexiglass, not actual glass, thank goodness. It didn't shatter like glass would. Also very lucky I wasn't rear-ended.

Then last night - guess what happened.

We had thunderstorms and heavy rain yesterday afternoon, so traffic was moving slowly. After passing the usual slowdowns, though, the rain had stopped and traffic was moving along at a decent speed (most of us). There was one of the big trucks, like the ones ulitlites use, and construction people, and the city street furniture/branches/whatever-is-out-but-not-garbage pickup services use, in the lane next to me but a little ahead. He was speeding. Really speeding. I noticed something that looked like a hammer up in the sky, and thought "that's odd." Then it started to fall... quickly. It was a freaking PUSH BROOM. Seriously - something else flying off a truck in front of me. Again - very lucky. It landed in the lane next to me (RIGHT next to me) and there wasn't a car in that spot. Push brooms bounce really far, too, by the way. The driver never saw what happened. He was going so fast I couldn't even see him after about 30 seconds.

I wonder if I should start telecommuting... this driving thing is getting scary.

My hair is bipolar

I am baffled.

Mystified.

Confused.

Surprised.

I have no idea what is going on with my hair. My entire life, it has been the same: a light red with the occasional darker red or blond strand in the mix, fine, and very very very straight.

Seriously straight.

Curling-irons-are-useless, couldn't-even-perm-it straight.

Lately, though, I've noticed something interesting. The new hairs that grow at the top of my head and around my face... are curly. And "platinum." (Shh, don't spoil my delusion.)

This is the weirdest thing! Is it hormonal changes from childbirth? Is it age? (Remember- don't spoil the delusion. Of course it's not age.) Maybe it's all the failed perms from my preteen years finally "taking."

It sure does make a difference in styling my hair. Well, if I DID really style my hair more than either putting it up, pulling it back in a clip, or leaving it down until it bugged me too much and I put it up.

Instead of everything staying smooth and flat, I have these weird frizzy flyaways that puff out from ear to ear across my head. I had to unclog my hairspray bottle (I think it had been a year or more since I last used it...) and tried to hold them down that way. It didn't work, and I could smell the stuff all day long. I can't use heavy styling products because my hair is too fine and thin (think baby hair but longer) to support them. If I even knew HOW to use the products.

So what do I do? I keep removing whatever "platinum" strands I can see but apparently there are more on top of my head, judging from my mom's "oh my" and giggle last time she cut my hair. Good thing I'm tall - no one else can see those!

If only I could get the fluffy strands under control.

"Women with lower IQ more likely to pursue rich men"

I heard about this article on my way to work this morning. Apparently it is causing quite the controversy! A study from University of Michigan found that women with lower IQs are more attracted to rich men than women with higher IQs.

Here is the full text:

A new study from the Michigan University has found that women with lower IQ are more likely to be attracted to rich men than their smarter counterparts, reported UK's Daily Mail.

The findings suggest that contrary to popular belief, there's more to the 'gold digger' phenomenon than pure greed. Researchers are now suggesting that it could be seen as an "instinctive urge to guarantee a secure financial future for any potential children."

Lead author of the study, Dr Christine Stanik, of Michigan University, says it is "only natural" for women with limited education and career prospects to pursue men who are able to provide financial stability.

‘In ancient times, women evolved an attraction to men with wealth because they knew such a mate could improve the chances of their offspring’s survival,’ said Stanik.

‘It is a very strong gut feeling that is hard to shake off, especially when a woman does not have her own career which would give her financial independence.’

So next time you feel like indulging in an episode of Girls of the Playboy Mansion, don't give yourself a hard time. Remember, it's not only mindless reality TV you are watching -- but true Darwinism at work.

Hmm.

One of the radio show hosts (a woman) was outraged and felt this study demeaned women. She is getting married next month but has a standard for the men she would date - they had to not so much be successful or wealthy NOW, but have the drive and ambition to get there.

I kind of see the truth in it, though. The article doesn't contradict women seeking men with ambition. Smart women DO gravitate toward men who are more their equals. I see this article applying more so to women like Lorelie in "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes." Pretty, not terribly smart, places a higher value on money than anything else. She wants to marry a rich man, one who can buy her diamonds and take care of her every material desire.

Women with higher IQs are the ones who go to college, have successful careers, have other interests. They can provide for themselves and don't need a man to fill that need. They have other needs. If you'll notice, the article makes no mention of ambition, drive, or personal success. Wealth is the only attribute considered. This could mean a now-grown trust fund kid "finding himself" while living off his family's name and fortune. It could explain the whole Anna Nicole phenomenon - women going for the rich old men and gaining (or fighting surviving children for) an inheritance.

No, the study finding itself doesn't offend me at all. I know where I stand. I love my husband dearly and would be devastated if anything ever happened to him or to our marriage, but in the end, I know I could take care of myself.

Gratitude

I had a sick day again yesterday. This time it wasn't me; the baby is sick. She was fine on Monday, slightly congested Monday night, then when I woke her up yesterday morning her nose was all crusted over and her poor little eye was matted shut! I used a warm washcloth to free her face while I called the pediatrician's nurse, who wanted her seen right away. Turns out she has infection in both ears and her eye. But we caught it before it got TOO terribly bad. Anyway, yesterday was spent as it should be: snuggled up on the couch with my babygirl. Older babygirl was at her grandparents' house but we exchanged phone calls/texts all day. She knew Sophie was sick first thing, since she called me as I was getting my phone to call the nurse, and wanted me to call her right away after the visit. "I want to know EVERY detail." Such a caring big sister! She even offered to cut her visit short and come home early - even though beloved Aunt Shirley flew in yesterday. I love my girls.

I used a quiet opportunity yesterday to make another entry in my gratitude journal. I discovered something awful, though - it won't save if I list more than five things! So I had to cut a few lines from the list. I believe that it still needs to get "out there" somehow, so here is my full list from yesterday:

* Understanding boss
* Great healthcare providers
* Health insurance (picked up 4 prescriptions yesterday. Total cost: $0)
* Medicine to heal my babygirl
* She likes her antibiotic!! No struggles to get the medicine down her throat
* Happy babies (no crankiness or fussiness all day)
* It wasn't quite as hot yesterday.
* Fans - one fan kept our house 9 degrees cooler all day yesterday.
* Caring older daughter
* Diaper Genie (you really don't want to know the details there...)

And of course, as usual, my husband, my daughters, my family, my friends. I don't know how I would get through this life without them.

What's cooking?

So I decided to make Sophie's baby food instead of buying it. Not only is it healthier, it's a lot cheaper, too! I did get discouraged in the beginning because I couldn't get my baby food maker to work properly and bought a couple packages of Gerber, but after some time to calm down, an email and a phone call to customer service, I am cooking up a storm!

A couple months ago I got the First Years' BabyPro All-in-one baby food maker. It is a little unit with a steamer and food processor. It is not very big, and doesn't take up much counter space. Since I do not have a real food processor, don't know where to get one or what in the world I'd do with it other than make baby food, and have no idea how to steam foods on the stove, I figured it was a sound investment. And we have a small kitchen - the size and having everything in one unit was a huge plus.

I started out with squash. The babysitter has a garden and had given me four HUGE yellow squash. Huge is more of an understatement - these things were monsters. I cut up part of one for the steamer, cooked the rest for our dinner, and had leftovers. Then apples, avocado (not steamed), and peaches. I made cherries and banana next. Today I went grocery shopping and picked up frozen peas, and fresh pears, plums, sweet potatoes, and butternut squash. This baby will be eating good the next few months!

My husband seems a bit surprised by all this. He is fully behind it, but can't figure out where the food-processing bug came from. Honestly, I don't either. I am NOT this domesticated. I cook from mixes, not from scratch. I much prefer the fast, easy way to cook. But I just can't make myself buy all this jarred babyfood!

At least I know without a doubt what will be going in her little stomach. And we won't have to worry about any recalls, either.

So hard to say goodbye

So my goal of writing every day has already hit a snag! I DID remember, but it was after midnight and I knew if I turned on my computer it wouldn't be just to write something. The allure of the internet is just too strong!

In my defense, yesterday was a REALLY bad day. My 12 yr old has been sick since Thursday, the baby had a fever off and on over the weekend, and I woke up on Sunday sick also. Yesterday felt worse. Also, I had a feeling my cat was getting another UTI since I found dark brown pee from her on Sunday and sure enough, when we got up yesterday morning she was sick also. So I took a sick day so Em and I could recover and I could take the cat to the vet for some antibiotics.

When we got there, the diagnosis wasn't what I had expected at all. It was not a UTI but a recurring infection (she had it in January also but made a full recovery). Her little body would attack its own red blood cells suddenly (that was the dark brown urine) and this time she just couldn't fight it off. The only treatment was a blood transfusion, but that itself would probably have been too much stress on her sick little body. I called my husband to discuss it with him, when suddenly the vet said "I need a decision NOW because she's dying on the table." So after 13 years of life, my poor kitty left us. It was so hard on us all. She and her sister were our "practice babies." We got them as 6 month old kittens when we were pregnant with Emma. These two animals have trained us well. Sure, we gave Ocoee the nickname "Pita" (Pain in the a**) but loved her dearly. She loved nothing more than to get in a lap and be the center of attention.

Chris came home from work early and buried her. I picked out a spot under the dogwood tree at the edge of our yard. The vet's office did provide a burial box for her, which was very nice. Her sister Charla seems to know something is different - she has been very clingy since we got home yesterday morning.

So that's why I didn't write anything yesterday. I was sick and heartbroken. That's also all I can write about it today because if I don't stop now, I'll start crying again and I'm back at work today. Can't have that. It was hard enough finding her fur all over one of my bags. She had slept on it most of Saturday when she wasn't trying to steal my seat at the dinner table or stealing the bacon left unattened for a few minutes.

I'm going to miss that little bugger...

Mamas, I need your help!

I realized I am guilty of doing something I have always been opposed to doing.

I don't know how to change.

I had this realization when I was browsing a local website for moms, www.knoxmoms.com (BTW if you live in Knoxville area and have kids, check out this site. Bookmark it. Seriously.) Anyway, there is a group titled KnoxMoms for Comprehensive Sexual Education. My first thought is "Excellent!" I really think kids should be taught about sex - their body parts, what they do, how to protect themselves, and how to communicate about their feeling. I really do!

However - ask me how many times I've discussed this with my own 12 year old daughter. Or better yet, don't ask me! I can't answer that! When she was 8, she asked me what a period was and I gave her a basic, bare-bones discussion of what happens, reproduction-wise, but no real details. With my pregnancy, she learned all about baby developement and how babies are actually born. She has had a class at school, but I don't even know what was covered! She says the teacher never actually got around to the "sex" part of the sex-education class. I dont' even know for sure how much she actually knows!

This is not healthy at all. I was (intentionally or not) raised thinking sex was bad, not discussed at all, forbidden. When my mom tried to have "the talk" with me I was so freaked out I wouldn't let her speak. I still can't discuss things like that with her! I'm married with two kids so obviously she's aware I'm not a virgin, but I still can't have that conversation. When I think of having a similar discussion with Emma, I have the same awkward freak-out in my head and just put it off again. I just can't get the words out!

On one hand, I am afraid of "spoiling her innocence" - exposing her to this foreign, scary world that she doesn't need to think about at her age. On the other hand, I am well aware of what other kids her age are doing and think she probably knows some of it already. Is some misinformation? Probably. But I'm too afraid to broach the subject with her to find out.

How do I get over this?

House and home

(I am trying to get back in the habit of blogging regularly again. I have really slacked off since Sophie was born! I guess that is a good reason, but still... For me, the writing habit is of the "use it or lose it" variety. I apologize in advance if I am a bit random or rambling.)

Today is cleaning day. My first couple weeks back at work I was really good about keeping the house picked up and laundry kept up. That, unfortunately, didn't last long. So, today is cleaning day. I am really trying to stick to one room at a time but I keep getting so distracted! I have a ring sling, though, that helps me get more done when Sophie is awake and wanting Mommy instead of Daddy or big sister.

Thursday, we had a new roof put on our house. The week before I went back to work, Emma was on Spring Break and showed me some spots on her ceiling. Yep, water damage. We could have just had the spots repaired, but in a couple years would need a new roof entirely, so we just had that done all at once.

Not only was the roof old and deteriorating, our gutters were in horrid condition! Neither the roof nor the gutters were built properly when the house was built, so we are dealing with that damage now. Today we are getting all new gutters and soffit. We are also getting a leaf guard put in, so no more climbing to the roof to clean out the gutters.

It is so nice to have repairs done to the house. I have not been feeling the love for it lately. I joke about wanting the contractor from Holmes on Homes to visit, but really would prefer Extreme Makeover Home Edition. Eleven years in, we are finding out just how poorly our house was built 32 years ago, and it is wearing on the soul, that's for sure. I know "home" is what you make it, but when our house seems to be revolting against us... the home feeling just isn't as strong. We are slowly but surely getting the repairs done, and I hope soon we can work on improvements.

In the meantime, while the workers are working on the outside of the house, I'll work on the inside, making it once again "home."

No more...

Two weeks ago, I had a procedure done that has made me sterile. Same principle as having my tubes tied, but non-invasive and not painful. It was a simple, quick, and easy procedure. (I even got to watch the screen along with the doctor!) This is definitely what I wanted, and I have no second thoughts or regrets.

However, for some reason I am a little sad. Sophie is the last baby in the house. There is no reason to hang on to her adorable little outfits once she outgrows them. The heirloom baby cradle will never be used by our little family unit again, until Emma is grown and has a little one of her own.

And for the life of me, I don't know why this makes me sad! I truly do not want to have more children. I am happy with our family the way it is. And honestly, financially and spatially we can't have another. We can't afford for me not to work, and childcare for three, one after school and two full-time, would be impossible. We'd need a larger house if we had another, also. Bigger house = bigger mortgage. Again, not possible.

Is this some innate biological feeling? Some ancient instinct saying "females must be able to produce!"?? A biological clock I never knew I had?? I mean, logically and rationally (and even 95% emotionally) I know without a doubt this was the right direction. But that tiny, hidden part of me thinks "what have I done?"

Who is your daughter's role model?

Ok, our family has four shows we watch together, as a family, and never miss (thank goodness for DVR). Bones, House, Chuck, and Big Bang Theory. Last night it was just us girls, my husband had a business dinner, so Emma and I watched this week's episode of Chuck again. (If you are not familiar with this show, a brief summary: everyday, average guy gets CIA super-spy stuff in his head and gets two handlers to make him a spy. Handlers are Adam Baldwin [by far the best Baldwin] and a beautiful strong blonde, Sarah.) As the episode was finishing, I took Sophie to her room to change her diaper and soon Emma was at my side, excited at the ending. She was jumping around in the way wound up kids do, and our dogs were in the doorway getting all excited, too. She starts playing with our Pointer, and I heard "I'm going to go all Chuck on you! Nevermind, I'm going to go all SARAH on you! Hiiiiiii-yah!" She kept jumping around, fake kung-fu fighting the dog, and kept repeating "See? I'm all Sarah on you! You can't get me!"

I love that she loves this show, and Sarah's character. The main character, Chuck, likes the spy world. He has worked at a dead-end retail job since being unfairly expelled from Stanford where he was top in his class. But, he refuses to carry a real gun, kill people, or let the assignments take away from his life with his family and friends. Oh, and still gets the girl :) But also, the female leads are both wonderful for her to see - Chuck's sister, a brilliant doctor, and Sarah, who kicks butt regularly. Neither one defer to their male counterparts but treat themselves (and hence are treated by others) as equals.

So Emma's playing around last night, combined with a tweet I received this morning, really got me to thinking about the new female role models and who I want my daughter to look up to. I mentioned Bones as one of our can't miss shows - the main character there, Temperance Brennan, is on that list. Genius scientist AND bestselling author? Yes, please!

Here are a few others I like:

Mellody Hobson, financial contributor on Good Morning America

Sandra Bullock, Oscar winner, adoptive mom, handles things with class. Oh, and doesn't party like crazy and show her undies (or lack of)

Robin Roberts, Good Morning America anchor. She's tall, smart, athletic, and relatable.

Selena Gomez - Emma's already a fan. Cute, sweet, Disney star. Acts, sings, designer, philanthropist, dog rescuer.

Emma Watson - Hermione! Also scholar, humanitarian, and model.

Danica McKellar - Remember Winnie from The Wonder Years? Yeah, she's a math genius. She has also authored two books to encourage girls with math.

Then there's the "real-life" role models: moms, teachers, local business owners, pastors, the women in our community who aren't afraid to take charge and make a change for the better.

So who do you want your daughters to look up to and admire?

Music to (in) our ears

Maybe I'm getting old, or am just becoming more aware of what my daughter hears, but I've really started paying attention to the lyrics of songs lately as Emma and I listen to the radio in the car. It really started a few years ago with that horribly annoying song about "Superman" but not the superhero - the really gross, disgusting thing apparently young men like to do to their partners in bed. Remember that song? Soulja Boy was the artist. It was everywhere, even played at Emma's school at an outdoor PTO event. Here are the lyrics. Yeah, my daughter's elementary school was playing this for the kids.

Recently, I've seen a lot of criticism of Lady Gaga's work. I know we live in the Bible Belt, and am myself a practicing Christian, albeit a more liberal one. I'm more of the "live and let live and let's all love each other and get along" mindset than the "my way is the only way, change your way or you're going to Hell" mindset. I know many people of the second persuasion, though. A couple weeks ago someone on my Facebook friends list whom I went to school with posted a rant about her music, mainly her videos. Granted, they are out there. These aren't your standard pre-reality show MTV 3-minute bubblegum videos. Her videos tend to follow the Thriller-esque, mini-movie productions, but more avant garde. This person's complaints were that the videos were available online and his kids could find them and watch them and be exposed to a naked female body (I'm sure his daughter knows what girl parts look like) and that Lady Gaga has admitted that she likes both girls and boys. You know what? Elton John is gay, too, and no one criticizes his music. But that's another topic all together...

I have Lady Gaga's first CD, and most of the songs from the second. I love them. Emma loves them. And you know what? She can listen to them all she wants! I've listened to them, I've read the lyrics in the CD liner. Nothing is objectionable. Lady Gaga has said that some songs have different meanings, but there is no way to get that from the songs themselves. And as for the online availability? Someone apparently needs to teach his children rules for the computer and know how to check out where they visit while in Internetland. And does he really think that's the worst thing out there?? Then he really needs to get out more.

On the other hand, there is Rihanna. I like her music, too. It's catchy, it's fun to sing along with, and she's just adorable. And after the Chris Brown incident last year, the whole country is in love with her. Sunday her song "Rude Boy" came on the radio as Emma and I were going to my parents' house for Easter dinner. Here is what we heard: Come here rude boy, can you get it up? Come here rude boy, are you big enough?

Like that's subtle. I'm sure most parents really don't want to hear "What is she talking about?" and have to answer that.

My point isn't even that these songs are out there, really. Like I said, I'm pretty liberal about a lot of things. And I like Rihanna, that's not the point either. It's the perception, I guess, that gets to me. People are shocked by the performance and assume the music is just as provocative, or remember the vulnerability of last year and assume the music is innocent. It's the judgments that get to me, I guess.

Just pay a bit more attention to what is put in our kids' heads. And if you don't agree with something they listen to, talk to them about why. But PLEASE have a better reason than "I don't like the video" or "that person is homosexual." Be a bigger person than that.

Milestone missed

So in my previous post I mentioned being afraid of missing some of Sophie's "firsts" that I experienced with Emma. First crawling, first steps, first words, things like that. Those will be the beginnings of a lifetime of "firsts" - first boyfriend, first kiss, first time driving, first job - milestones that mark our babies' growth into adults.

Emma recently had another first, and one that she chose NOT to share with me: she had her first period. Wanna know how I found out? I found a wrapper in the garbage and knew it wasn't mine and asked her about it. She still wouldn't even admit to knowing what I was talking about until I asked her point-blank if she had started her period. I was floored when she said yes! I mean, it's still two weeks until she turns 12. I was not ready for this (emotionally, I mean. She's been "ready" for a couple years now and knew what would happen and what to do). But, I never in my wildest dreams thought she just wouldn't say anything about it at all.

And to be honest, it kind of hurt. Ok, it really hurt. I don't expect her to come to me when she has her first kiss. Most of her upcoming "firsts" she'll go running to her friends with before she ever gets around to us. That is a normal part of growing up, I know. But this one - I'm her MOM! I'm SUPPOSED to be the first to know about this, right?

We've always had a very good relationship. I've tried to make her feel like she can come to me with anything at all. And she has - until now. So now I worry about things that may not even be real: if she didn't tell me this, what else is she not telling me?? My imagination has been working overtime.

I have to trust in her, though. We're raising her, I hope, to know right from wrong and how to behave. And she is still young - it's not like she's a teenager yet with the freedoms of movement (transportation) that allows. She and her friends still have to rely on parents to go anywhere or do anything. She doesn't spend a lot of time at friends' houses right now, either. Her friends group has changed with the new school and the parents haven't caught up yet. So it's not like I really have to worry yet.

I have realized one thing, though. I am terrified of her becoming a teenager. I am losing my baby girl to the grownup world!

Almost time to rejoin the "real world"

I have two weeks left of my maternity leave. Sophie will be ten weeks old when I go back to work. I know that is four weeks later than many other moms have to leave their babies, but it still seems way too early to me! With Emma, I didn't go to work until she was sixteen months old. I was there for her first word, her first steps, first solid food, first everything. I am so afraid of missing one of these milestones with Sophie! I also worry about how she will be taken care of (not at first, my amazingly wonderful mother has offered to stay with her for several weeks until she is a bit older). No matter how good a babysitter might be, or how long we've known her, no one can care for a baby like her parent (or grandparent).

Oddly enough, when Emma was smaller I never wanted to be a stay at home mom. She was always Daddy's girl - she loved me, too, but unless she was hungry (nursing) she wanted her Daddy. That didn't change for many years, either. She just didn't seem to NEED me as much. She loved her daycare and was even a bit spoiled there. When she started school, homework night was one of the two nights a week I was working so she didn't need me for that, either.

Once she moved into middle school, though, things changed. Homework is harder and more involved. I can no longer trust she finishes it at the babysitter's house. By the time we get home from work and picking her up, it's dinner time, then bath and bedtime for her. We don't have time during the week to just catch up, relax, enjoy each others' company. I miss that.

Now we have Sophie. The past eight weeks have been wonderful. I have time with her during the day, time for myself when she naps, then time with Emma in the afternoons. I help her with her homework, we talk, we play, we do things together. She has time to go outside and play. We're more relaxed. We eat better meals, and earlier so we have time for family time after dinner.

Don't get me wrong - I love my job and will enjoy being back at work. It is challenging, and interesting, and I work with a lot of wonderful people who I miss interacting with. But I also have a financial obligation to my family to go to work. We just can't do without my salary in the mix.

But if one of us came across a winning lottery ticket, guess where I'll be...