"...I lost every time I fought her...I lost every time." --Daughter, by Loudon Wainwright
So I love that song. One of the first things I listened to in the hospital after Emery arrived.
But it is abundantly clear to me that this is definitely MY daughter. Because don't be fooled by her snuggles and coos, and her sweet little baby smell. This girl is determined.
Determined to NEVER EVER DRINK FROM A BOTTLE IN HER LIFE THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
We're fighting a little battle here and trying everything: different bottles, different rooms, different people. Singing, talking, NCAA basketball. Walking, bouncing, sitting. Crying. (me and her) Ugh.
Everyone say it with me, "Three cheers for PLASTIC!" Come on, baby girl....please please please.
She is bound and determined to have a showdown; nay, a complete and utter battle of the wills. But this is one I must win, my friends. Mommy's going back to work in a little bit, and it's gonna have to happen. Bug had no trouble at all going back and forth--we never had to deal with this with him. And it's been a rough few days here as we've tried to reason with a 26 day old.
She has NO IDEA who she's up against.
I mean, I've done marathons and Ironman and stuff. I should be able to handle this, right? No problem. Bring it on, small fry.
...but the screaming.
And the sad, little crying face.
So I must be strong. We must be strong. Because this has to work--there's no way around it-- but I have a feeling that she's going to be a tough one to crack. Because, um, look at her mother. I don't exactly back down easily.
And I have a feeling that this won't be the first battle I ever have to fight with my fiery, determined, and snuggly sweet little girl.