Today marked the birth of my one and only child.  A daughter we named Ivy Jane.  There was always a part of me that never wanted children.  That part of me was always a little disgusted by all those parents that shove their pictures of the kids in your faces and sell chocolate bars (or take orders for cookies) at work for some fund raising thing at their kids' school or scout troop.  I was always bothered that my friends who had kids never had time to do anything that didn't revolve around their kids.  I was always a little aggravated by those people who's kids are always the ones screaming at the top of their lungs that they want a certain toy or breakfast cereal and were told no, but they figured (and knew full well) that if they continued to scream they'd get their way in the end.  That very same part of me that thought kids were just annoying, noisy, messy people with no emotional stability has been killed and buried somewhere shallow in the backyard...  OK, that was a grim image that should not have been associated with children.  What I'm trying to say here is that, after all these years of not even knowing what to say to kids, I finally got a clue.  I finally get it.  I understand now that kids really are great.  They're something special.  They're more valuable than gems or gold.  They mean more than a cool breeze on an oppressive summer day.  I love my daughter, right off the bat.  I did before I saw her for the first time.  Now that I have seen her shining face, there's no going back.  I'm hooked.  I wouldn't have it any other way...