How can two babies born to the same couple be so different? Elsa is calm, loves to eat, and is generally a good sleeper. Malorie is turbulent, a picky eater, and wakes me up at 6am most mornings. Elsa is chubby and tall. Malorie has always been petite.  Elsa was a big, early baby who gave me a short and easy labour. Malorie was late, in preemie clothes for the first few months, and had me labouring for 39 hours.

And yet I love them the same. I didn't know how I would love another the way I love Malorie, but I do.
"Love will find a way," people would tell me. And it did. I look at both my children, and I say to myself, "I love you. Even though you just broke my favourite mug, I love you. Even though you haven't stopped screaming in my face for 45 minutes, I love you. Even though you refuse to eat, you draw on the walls, you scatter blocks around the house, you help yourself to what's in the pantry, you chew on the sofa, and you use me as play equipment when I'm trying to have dinner, I love you."

And you know what? I mean it. The good FAR outweighs the not-so-good.