My child hates me.

Of this, I am almost completely certain.

Exhibit A: If Paul is holding her, she rarely comes to me. If I'm holding her, she always goes to him.

Exhibit B: If she playing on the floor and I walk out of the room, nothin'. Paul walks out of the room, squalls, and a fast little tubby tub crawling along after him.

Exhibit C: She looks exactly like him. Ok, so I know she really doesn't have control of this, but it just adds fuel to the fire.

Exhibit 4: This morning, she woke me up at 7 a.m. After feeding and playing for a little while, I had to start getting ready for work. I showered while she happily played in the floor. I went and put her in the bed with Paul while I got dressed, thinking she would be all cute and crawl all over him, waking him up to enjoy the morning. But instead, that little booger cuddled up beside him, grabbed her bear and went to sleep. At 8:30 a.m. I left for work at 9, both still snoozing. Paul called at 11, because THEY HAD JUST WOKEN UP!!!

Friday night, Ansley didn't go down until midnight, then woke up at 2 and I couldn't get her to sleep until 3:3o. We napped on the couch until 5, struggled to take a bottle, played for a bit, had some fruit at 7, FINALLY went back to sleep at 8, and woke up at 9:30, all while Daddy was able to sleep soundly in the comfy bed. Where is the fairness in that?

Ansley,
I carried you in my belly for 35 weeks. I let you kick and squirm and make me throw up and get stretch marks. I labored to get you out for 21 hours. Despite being a preemie, you weren't small, and mommy had to get stitches where no one should ever have to get them. I fed you my own specially made milk, which Daddy didn't have, and I've taken your temperature rectally, which Daddy has never done. And this is what I get?

I'll get you back, don't worry. I haven't been taking embarrassing pictures for nothing. Just wait till you bring friends over, or that first boy home. Then you'll wish you had let me sleep just a little longer.

Love,
Mommy