Muffin + Mommy = 4Ever

Mornings are my favorite time with Muffin. I hear her chirping from the crib, and I scoop her into our bed for a cup of milk and a bit of Sesame Street. Too sleepy to realize she has more important things to do, she cuddles into the crook of my arm and points out Elmo, which, thank god, because that guy is not overexposed or anything.

Some mornings she is so scrumptious that I daydream about her on the train. And at my desk. And in meetings. And at the gym. I replay how adorably mussed her hair is upon waking, I remember how she giggles after she burps, and I smile to think about how she kisses her stuffed animals with an enthusiastic "mwah!" I fantasize about her like I used to think about boys I had crushes on; She is my new Justin Timberlake. I plaster my cubicle with posters of her in mesh tank tops, I consult the Ouija board to see if I will marry her, and I send her notes asking if she's free after playgroup. Please check yes, no or maybe in purple crayon.

Ohmigod, isn't she just dreamy?