Intense

"I'm kind of intense."

That's my standard answer when asked to "write a little bit about myself." Like in the sidebar on a certain social networking site where we all waste far too much time.

Apparently Lilah inherited the intensity trait from me. We noticed early on that she had the same hypersensitivity to stimuli that I do. She startles easily, can't stand any sort of bright light in her eyes, and always had a hard time falling asleep just anywhere, even as a relative newbie. I was always jealous when I saw new babies who would sleep peacefully in their strollers or stretched out on their mom's laps in the middle of a noisy coffee shop.

She's always been hyper alert as well. And when I say always, I mean always. Like from birth. She came out of me with her eyes wide open. Before her shoulders were even out, she was just a head sticking out of a vagina with eyes wide open. I know, I know, that's quite the visual. I actually have a photo - our doula got a little overzealous with the camera - but I'll spare you.

Anywaaaayyyy... back to Lilah. Once she has made up her mind to do something, she is completely single-minded in her efforts to reach her goal. And now that she is mobile, there really is no stopping her. My days are spent trying, but it's pretty clear I'm fighting a losing battle.

Even her voice is intense. The kid has a set of lungs on her. She produces shrieks louder and shriller than I ever knew a human creature to be capable of. This she did not get from me. Must have been her daddy's contribution. She routinely startles other babies and causes them to burst into tears with her insanely loud and high-pitched squeals.

Yep, she's kind of intense. And she gives me a run for my money every single day.