Every parent believes that her child is the smartest, most beautiful and most special child in the world.  I hear from my friends and acquaintances that their children are the next Nobel-prize, Oscar winning Miss and Mr. Americas, but of course, we all know that they're wrong since mine is the superstar. 

Debate aside, what surprises me the most about being a mother is how it has changed me.  My lifestyle and schedules have changed; I rarely take trips out of town or overnight.  The depth of my feelings have changed; the intensity of my love for my child is downright overwhelming.  I have felt striking romantic love and I've felt the fierce love as a child who loves her family and friends.  But the love that my child evokes from me is simultaneously the deepest, most powerful feeling and yet the most terrifying all rolled into one. 

She arrived unexpectedly, as these things happen.  Children really hadn't even crossed my mind at that point.  All big head and fuzzy hair, I knew when I brought her home, sleeping in my arms, that she was very special.  Every time I look in those deep chocolate eyes, fringed by the longest Disney-style eyelashes, I get lost again and again. 

When she was a baby, she was all awkwardness and cuteness...and while she discovered everything, I felt I was discovering it with her for the first time myself.  Holding her in my arms became my mission in life even as she outgrew them.

My child intuitively knows all of my moods, even comforting me during times of sadness.  She has hugged me and even kissed my tears away.  She has seen me through a rocky marriage, then divorce, a job loss, and then a couple of moves, and over time, we have become best friends as well as mother and daughter. 

What does this very special child look like?  Here she is:

The love of my life, the apple of my eye and my best friend...this is Phoebe, my daughter.  And my apologies to other parents, both of human and pet children, mine IS the cutest, smartest baby in the world. 

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