Everything is the same, but on a tilt. I haven't changed but I'm completely different. Still me, but me with a tiny person I'm responsible for.
She wiggles in her chair. Sits quietly and looks at contrasting patterns, the walls, the shadows. Stays up late, has a tantrum every night around midnight, then goes to sleep around 2am. Her little hands wrap themselves around my fingers. Her little nails slash the shit out of anything that comes too close unprotected.
Our child.