She was a cute baby girl and I remember when I first held her in my arms.
She was the first baby close to home after I decided not to want to be pregnant anymore.
The years that followed were interesting.
She was growing fast, developed well, and had an intense need to be present.
At times it was impossible to have a conversation when she was in the room, and at a certain moment I told her to be quiet.
She was surprised as she was not used to be told what to do or not to do.
I told her that she was in my house and she needed to follow my rules.
I could not allow her to talk over and over again when her mum and I wanted to have a good time chatting, simply because I had 6 children and didn't want them to get in between it all too.
"One rule for all children in this house."
To my surprise she accepted it. "OK".
I had to remember her of the rule a few times and then matters were settled.
At her home I often told her that she might try to use the rule there too, and she was relatively quiet when I was there.
At the birthday of the girls she and her mom visited me.
She'd grown a lot, smiled a lot, and was clinging to her mother in precisely the same way.
Then suddenly she walked to the couch I was sitting on, sat beside me and told with a clear voice: "You're my second mom", and hugged me.