My conversations with myself go something along the lines of this, lately (what?!? you don't have conversations with yourself??):
Me: Man, thank god Chava is one. I wouldn't repeat that last year for all the tea in China.
Me: Yeah. .... but she's getting so big! And so grownup! Wasn't it fun to have a little baby?
Me: Do you remember how she cried nonstop for the first three months? Do you?
Me: It wasn't so bad. And look at her now, she's a toddler. Soon she won't even sleep in those footed pajamas anymore.
Me: The day can't come soon enough. I can't wait until she's done with the highchair.
Me: Noooooo! Don't let my baby grow up!
Me: Get a grip on yourself, woman!
(You can't tell from this picture, really, but her feet don't even touch the floor.)