You know that kid who starts pulling your sleeve at the exact moment you are trying to have an adult conversation? That kid that screams so loud your ears hurt a week later? The kid that does not have to be asked twice if she wants to jump on the chair and sing a song for everybody? The kid that has so much energy you are considering calling Social Services because you are pretty sure there is coffee in her juice cup? That kid was me. I loved going places, meeting people, talking to strangers, singing, dancing and just screaming in general. Really cute in small dosages and an absolute horror to all childless friends of my parents.

And if I have not seen with my own eyes the doctor taking Leila out my body I would say that there is no way this child is related to me. She is the most gentle, sensitive little soul I have ever met. A tiny baby with bionic ears – a loud sneeze can pretty much ruin her day. And I know she will never win a stare contest – after about 30 seconds of direct eye contact with the stranger she gives you a bashful smile and then immediately buries her head into my shoulder. It is just one of her little quirks that makes me smile too every time she does it.

Every new place, new sound, new light, new experience – is a challenge for Leila. It took me only two weeks to convince her that a car seat is actually a ‘happy place’. I really thought we will have to discontinue going to our weekly Baby-N-Me classes because she did not appreciate more than one person talking at a time, not to mention all the sympathy crying that had to be done when other babies cried. She is fine now. I even think she enjoys going there.

In my continuous effort to slowly bring her out of her shell, last week I took her to a local Baby Gymboree class. I really had no expectation of being able to stay there. New place, loud music, bright colors and never seen before faces – that is Leila’s description of HELL. She was quietly sitting in my arms as I was trying to register at the front desk. I literally felt when she suddenly inhaled and then stopped breathing completely. I looked at her and her eyes were getting bigger by the second, her lower lip started shivering and forming into the classic baby pout. Then slowly her mouth opened into one of those quiet screams that gives you exactly 2 seconds to RUN.FOR.YOUR.LIFE if you do not want to be killed by the sound wave that is about to come out of that little mouth. I ended up having to take her outside so she could have some fresh air and start breathing a little. A few minutes later we were looking at the class from the hallway, then from the little gate, then we approached the blanket and what do you know… we actually managed to sit through the whole class and even enjoy it.

Leila is definitely a home body. She would be absolutely satisfied if we never left the house and just hung out with two or three people that we already know, who ideally would come to our house.

That reminds me of some one I know…. that’s right - her father.