Eight is great!

Eight years ago I was holding that smiling little nugget in my arms. I still remember how wonderful it was to finally meet her. To know that she was "Margret" and not "Davis". To see the little blond tips on her dark hair. To know that her birthday would be in May, not June. To see John with the biggest, tired-est smile on his face.

Some new moms are a little freaked out about taking home a new baby. As in "does the hospital really think I know how to take care of a baby?" Not me. Not that I thought I knew everything, but I was just so happy to finally have my own baby. And she was so much more than I ever hoped for. I think I've done okay with her. So far.

And if I mess that one up, I still have this one. Hmmm. May be too late. She's completely nuts.