Babies and other incredible adventures

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away (seriously -- like 2 states away from here) I had my first baby. She was a fair thing (okay, her skin glowed whitely white like mine) and had lots of dark hair. Such a beautiful baby, so tiny, so sweet. Just 6 lb 13 oz, and 18 1/2 inches. My own sweet baby, born on the 7th of Feb a number of years ago. She had such a tiny cry that she sounded like she was squeaking when she cried and once she became a slightly older baby and could have table food she would stuff her little cheeks with "something for later". Thus, her nickname, Squirrel, was born. That sweet tiny baby is now almost eye to eye with me, a newly minted teenager, but she still has an easy laugh, joyful heart, brightly happy eyes, and a tender soul. My young lady -- no longer my baby -- is a delight to behold. She fills me with awe when I contemplate her charitable kindness and selflessness -- my heart aches with the almost overwhelming love I feel for her, this tiny little miracle of mine. She makes me laugh so hard my sides hurt, on a regular basis, and I cannot imagine my life without her. I am a much better person because she is in my life. Happy 13th Birthday, my wonderful, darling, sweet, GIANT baby-of-mine.