Might as well face it, I'm addicted to love

I think I'm starting to get a vague understanding of the addiction that drug addicts face on a daily basis.

My name is Mommy. And I'm a Baby B junkie.

When I'm with her, I can't get enough. When I'm not with her, I think about her and fantasize about the time when I can have her again. When I get my fix, I feel a high like nothing else; happy chemicals swim eagerly through my body. When I have a bad day, she's something I can always count on to make it better. I would spend every bit of cash I had on her if I didn't know better. When I'm on my Baby B high, you can often find me talking quite incoherently. When with her, I engage in secretive behaviors (like singing the Baby Bouschie song--don't ask).

Baby B is my drug. And I fully admit that I have no desire to shake this habit.