Sort of about self esteem issues

When I was pregnant I used to feel legitimately concerned that our baby would end up favoring Tom. I knew I was going to have to be the one to enforce bedtimes and table manners, because experience has shown me that Tom won't do it. Therefore I'd be the mean one. And Tom would be the fun one.

I expressed my concern to Tom on many occasions: "Our kids are going to like you better!"

He would usually mull that over for a few seconds and then say, "Yeah, probably."

(I'm kind of hoping a: that I'm not the only person who has harbored such parental doubts and b: that admitting this fear doesn't make you all worry that I have crazy-wild self-esteem issues and one of these days I'm really gonna crack...)

But since her birth I've learned what it feels like to have a small human attached to me 24/7. (Except for the rare occasion when Tom's home from school and I can dash to the grocery store by myself. The grocery store! Woo!) And I've also learned that that fact alone makes me the coolest person around. 

We are totally BFFs. 

I mean, this girl adores the ground I walk on. And just to reinforce that I indeed do not have crazy-wild self-esteem issues, let me continue: She thinks everything I say is hilarious, she uses every facial muscle to grin at me, and she couldn't care less that I can't sing in tune.

Don't get me wrong though—she really likes Tom too. But me? Oh, man. Love is in the air.

For now at least. Of course, I haven't had too many table manners to enforce just yet. Plus, I usually applaud her when she burps, which won't always remain the case.

For now, we are like two peas in a pod.

And don't let her try to tell you otherwise.