She is my pregnancy hair is falling out in clumps and making little tumbleweeds all over the house and clogging up all the drains Months old, she is I can see my brother, and his daughter, and her cousin on the other side in her face months old, she is sticking her hands in my mouth months old, sleep becoming normal again months old, I have myself back-ish months old, she is now just a part of the family months old, I’m less scared of dropping her months old, she is becoming a person and eating pear months old, laughs a lot, lights up when she sees her brother, she sits at the dinner table with us months old, her character is both clear and forming months old, I can tell she’s an optimist like me months old, I can’t imagine living without her months old. Six long short months since I had her, so six, or a hundred. Too many, never enough.