hannah and me (part nine)
dear diary


damn. tonight was kind of tough. as far as nights home with the family go, tonight was stressful. and who, pray tell, was pubic enemy number one? the baby girl. the apple of my eye. the light of my world. little miss, little miss, little miss can't be wrong (for all you spin doctors fans out there). the sweet, precious baby girl. the same baby girl that this time yesterday was still limping around on her tip-toes milking everything she could out of her freshly skinned knee.

the afternoon and evening were pleasant enough. picking her up from school is always a highlight. only parents can understand the joy that is seeing your child's eye explode with excitement when they see you peek your head into their room. we came home, watched pardon the interruption, went to the playground, and then welcomed mommy home.

then all went wrong.

not really, the bungee jump that was tonight left the bridge when we headed to the store. we were all on different pages, and chasing hannah in the parking lot wasn't the best capper for the outing. came home, dinner was fine. sweet even. then came the time-out. for hitting. the time-out, admittedly, was not executed "by the book", but my guess is that the author was not wrestling with a strong-like-bull two year old as she typed her sage advice. after time-out, bath went pretty good, but hannah's playful attitude as we tucked her in fell on the tense shoulders of her mommy and daddy.

the bounce back came with the nightly hug and kiss that has become bedtime tradition. with the two hugs and two kisses, the stress seemed silly and the tension seemed unwarranted. and thus is a night with you, baby girl. even the hardest night always ends with love i do not understand but cannot now live without. sleep good.

see you in the morning.