But oh my sweet dear wonderful girl, I would be lying if I said you were easy. In fact, ever since Margaux was born, I have occasionally thought you were ruining our lives. Since that day when you tried to pick up - or drop - Margaux, even though that little incident was entirely my fault I have felt like we were almost adversaries. And then on our vacation - oh, what a nightmare you were! The prospect of flying with you filled your father with such dread that he bought you an iPod. Of course we understood - you toddlers don't like to travel - but the sleepless nights and grumpy days were at times unbearable to me when coupled with my fluctuating postpartum psychosis.
|So we've regressed a little bit. So what?|
|Lack of sleep prompts ingenuity.|
You are always ready to party. You have just scaled the rock wall on our play set, which scares me to death. You are so polite - "Tank you, Mama. Scuse me, Mama. Sawwy, Mama" - in a dialect so achingly adorable I wish I could bottle up that baby voice to replay when you are in high school riding on the back of some thug's motorcycle. You are such a surprise to me, dear Sylvie, and I can't wait to see what's next for you.