Happy two month birthday, pork chop!

To my dearest Chicklette:

Happy two-month birthday! I'm a day late, but I'm betting you can't tell the difference.

I can't believe it's only been two months since I pushed you through a happy epidural haze into the world. You have done so much growing and changing since then, and I honestly can barely remember what my life was like before you were in it. Kind of like in Twilight, when Bella can only hazily remember her human life. (Is it too early for me to start reading you those books? Let's discuss later.)

I'm not going to lie -- your first few weeks were not so much fun for mama. But now, I get greeted in the morning with smiles and giggles. Your big blue eyes follow me around while I make coffee and putter around the house. You gurgle in agreement with me when I comment on the morning news. You giggle in delight at all the pretty colors when we go shopping. You are, at this moment, a super-fun companion.

I look at you, and even though for the life of me I can't see either daddy or me in your face, I'm in awe that we (with the help of a very nice reproductive endocrinologist) made something so perfect. I could just explode from the cute. And the love.

I'm looking forward to every minute (well, almost every minute) of the next month we get to spend together before I go back to work.

But now, it's back to the Price is Right.

It's very educational.