I get to hang out with Roby every single day. She rides on my shoudlers every single day. We sing and laugh and cry every single day and I give her bites of my food, too. It is pretty exhausting because she is always on and constantly seeking a path of exploratory destruction.
How would this vase sound if it were sideways?
What does this packaging taste like?
How much paint from this old chair can I pinch off?
How much pain can dad endure if I pinch his ears?
Why are all the books organized?
What if they weren’t?

At the party yesterday she saw lots of people and for the beginning bit she was totally quiet. Eventualyl she opened up, but she was still more reserved than is usual. I feel entirely blessed that she feels most comfortable with Abby and me, two absolute freaks. 

I have slept in the same bed with Roby every single day of her life, but I’m going on a work trip at the end of the month so there will be two nights away, and that’s just awful. It’s a good thing to do, I’m excited about the trip, but I love Roby too much to be over the moon about it.

Any time away from her is an abject tragedy.
Any time with her is a gift of incredible worth.