Reality Is That My Baby Loves Me

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        My baby is bonded to me. I have to keep seeing that. She loves me, no matter how badly I treat her. I can always be better. That is the only way that things could get better- with that belief. In Reality, I am the best person to show her that she is loved, because I am the main person in her life. She came from me. I have to keep trying to be better. She loves me, and I will not give up. I will keep trying to not abuse her. I will keep trying to see her. Hopefully, she will turn out better than I did. She will not be perfect, but no one is perfect. No one has to be perfect. Just themselves. That will be enough. I love my baby girl. Just like the rest of the world loves their children. I am like the rest of humanity. I am normal.

         Yesterday we had a cute moment. She was pushing me from her perch on her highchair, and I was pretend-playing falling backwards, with a fake-surprised cry of hurt. She let out a loud, gleeful laugh, and repeated it again and again. I kept playing along, and when I over-exaggerated falling on the floor, she laughed even more. I saw how she needed it to let out feelings of powerlessness, and was happy to provide it for her. It showed me how much she needed to feel included in life, and in relationship with me.

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