text: semantics - hollywood housewife
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  Sometimes she looks not like a baby and not like a toddler, but so much like a big girl that it takes my breath away. And then she acts like a big girl, climbing and balancing and figuring things out just by watching us once. I forget that she doesn't really talk.
  Because she communicates just fine.
  Sometimes I worry that I don't love her enough, that I don't feel this all-encompassing, bone-crushing love for her every single second of the day that I read about in books.
  But then I realize that I love her like I love my legs. As a part of me, as something that has always been there, as something I couldn't imagine life without. She is a natural extension of me. And it's silly to get wrapped up in the semantics of it all. Love is love is love is love. And I am in love with that baby. Toddler. Big Girl.