Prior to Charlotte's arrival, I was apprehensive about raising a little girl. I don't know how to apply make-up, I can style my hair - into a ponytail. I wear jeans, t-shirts, and oh yeah sweatshirts. Let's not forget my ultra stylish, trendy and feminine Converse All-Stars. I'm just not girly. But, dad-gum-it, the girl was meant to be mine. She knows that I am mama. She will start to repeat: ma-ma-ma-ma-ma and fiendishly crawl towards me, then stand up with arms in the air begging to be carried. When I enter the room, she sqwuaks/screams (how do you spell sqwuack?) and then will drop what she is doing and bee-line straight towards me. Two words to describe her: sweet, but demanding. Do sweet and demanding = spoiled? Not by this ma-ma-ma-ma-ma.
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