My Wolverine

I have always called you a wolverine. From the time I felt you in my stomach it felt like you were going nuts in there and clawing me. Your dad and I would wallk along the beach path every morning my entire pregnancy and you'd jump around and go bananas. I would say, "She's ripping down the wallpaper in there and hanging from the chandelier." I dubbed you my "vicious, vicious wolverine". Now that you are on the outside your noises only reinforce my nickname for you. From the baby monitor while you sleep come the noises of a cage at the zoo. Someone would think I was raising a pack of wolves in the room. You drool and eat your fist and for the first month of your life would scratch your face so badly that you always had red welts and marks with dried blood. Awww, my sweet sweet little wolverine.