(this is her rice cereal face--there is even some up her nose)So every time I leave Miss Jemma, I hear what a sweet, dee-lightful little pumpkin she is. Whoever has had her (her daddy, grandmas, babysitters, etc.) says she could not have been happier, more smiley, etc. and I think to myself, huh?? Because the Jemma Jane I know is perfection when being held and cuddled but is a sad, screaming disaster as soon as I put her on the floor/in the bumbo/in the walker/on the chair. If I am in the room, she must be held by me only and she has an uncanny (and creepy) ability to sense when I am in the house. When I come home from somewhere and she is playing happily, I silently shut the door and tiptoe in, but her ears perk up immediately, her head cranes around like an owl, and she stares at me so intently I can feel it and then she opens her mouth and starts the screaming.
I am not exaggerating even a little bit. Ask Ed. Even he thinks it's amazing.
My mom has very little sympathy for me as this is apparently exactly how I was as a baby.
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