Last night, I was attempting to cut Kaia’s nails, and she screamed bloody murder pretty much nonstop, even when I was just trying to hold her hand… and even when I stopped to take a break and was just sitting on the bed with her. I don’t even think the nail cutting is actually what she hates the most: she really just hates not being in control of her own hands. The idea that someone would take control of her hands really drives her mad.

Other than the two night nurses we hired, who were both happy to help cut Kaia’s nails, no one other than me has cut Kaia’s nails… ever. Our nanny refuses to do it (she says she’s scared she will hurt her), and Chris refuses to do it. And as if Chris’s parents ever would have offered to do something that would require that level of detail. So really, this means that the stress of cutting her nails and the wrath she unleashes is totally on me. Given that my right wrist flared up after I knocked it yesterday, it made me feel even more miserable. There I was, in pain, trying to cut my baby daughter’s nails and dealing with her screaming nonstop as a result of it.

This moment actually made me realize exactly how easy of a baby my daughter has been to date, though, and how grateful I am for it. She’s fairly predictable, and she rarely is upset without a reason, unless it’s teething. I hear other people complain about their babies – not eating, not sleeping, screaming a lot, hating people. We’re so lucky she’s been this easy going. It’s made the transition to parenthood that much easier and more enjoyable for us.