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Her singing is the sweetest sound in the entire Universe. It’s more like whisper-sigh-mumbling, but it is by FAR the sweetest whisper-sigh-mumbling I’ve ever heard.

Purple baby bummie bottoms.

If you ask her what a cow says, she’ll say, “MMMmmMMMmmm.” Which is pretty dang close to “moo.”

Is anyone surprised by this particular talent? Nope. Not in the least.

While exposing our daughter to *NSYNC’s seminal album, No Strings Attached, do not attempt to rap along with Left Eye. YOU’RE RUINING THIS MOMENT!

That icky knot and emptiness I feel in the pit of my stomach. I hate goodbyes. I hate endings.

Don’t let the fifth black dog into the house.

(“Fifth black dog” being code for large, burly woodland beast that is not actually one of the four black dogs that belong at this abode).

Man, it was one ROUGH weekend of partying in the woods. I swilled back like 8 of these bad boys and pissed my reusable swim diaper (which is really just a mildly padded bathing suit bottom) on more than one occasion, in front of like, six grown men.

My pack of girls.

Have I mentioned that I am obsessed with this baby? And she is obsessed with the water and thus further feeds my obsession with her? Because it’s true.

When you say, “watch out for rattlesnakes,” and you really mean, “WATCH OUT FOR MOTHERFUCKING RATTLESNAKES! THEY ARE REAL! AND COULD HAPPEN TO YOU!”