Never have I felt more exhausted and accomplished at the same time than when I buckled Maisie into the car after a long, and ultimately painful fight. Painful for me, that is. I'm pretty sure this child has a heart of steel. I shouldn't call her this child. She's my child, though she'll never admit it. I told her she doesn't have to call me 'mom' or 'mommy' or anything. For now she's agreed to Adrianna - a huge step above Poopyface, which is what I was getting before. I just wish she didn't hate me so much. I guess I deserve it, though. I gave her away. She has no reason to like me. And on top of that, she just lost the only parents she ever knew. Of course she'd be upset.

I knew I'd be a terrible mother.

I sigh and pull into my long driveway, the gate closing behind us. I'm tempted to text someone and beg for their help, but I have a feeling that would make things even worse.

I lead Maisie up to her bedroom. Her eyes light up and I can see a smile trying to dig its way out, but she refuses to let up on the glaring. She's definitely my kid, if for no other reason than her superb acting abilities.

"Do you like it?" I ask.

She shrugs, though deep down I know she's pleased. "It's okay."

"I'm going to get your stuff from the car while you have a look around," I tell her. "Stay in your room for now, then I'll show you the rest of the house."

She nods, but I'm not convinced she's going to listen to me. I saw her eyeing the staircase to the attic earlier. Still, I leave her and run down to grab her stuff.

So if there's one thing I've learned today, it's that running up and down stairs with luggage in heels is a very, very bad idea, especially when you're chasing a kid who's trying to break into your bedroom.

To my surprise, she's still there when I return. I help Maisie get everything unpacked, then show her the rest of the house. She seems to be quite fond of it. Well, at least she likes something about living with me. She took a particular liking to the recording studio. I heard her singing when she thought I wasn't listening. She has a great voice! I make a mental note to ask if she'd be interested in vocal lessons when she no longer hates me (if that day ever comes).

Another room she liked is the library. To be honest, I don't use that room much. It's mostly for show. It's not that I don't like to read, I just don't have a whole lot of time - and if I do, I'm usually too tired to focus on anything. I guess Maisie loves to read. I've managed to pry it out of her that her favorite books are Mary-Kate and Ashley mysteries and The Babysitter Little Sister series, but she'll read anything put in front of her. The only things I read at her age were scripts.

For dinner, I made her Kraft Dinner. The chef came in about halfway through me boiling the water and looked appauled, but I told him his services wouldn't be necessary. Maisie apparently doesn't like anything besides mac and cheese, hot dogs, chicken nuggets and grilled cheese. At least I have the basic cooking skills to make some of those things. Well, I thought I did until she scowled at me, demanding ketchup. Once I got that for her, she wanted parmesan cheese. Then she needed more milk. Then she decided she wanted juice instead.

I never knew my acting skills could be so handy as they did today in maintaining my cool. I'm also grateful that my amazing sense of denial kicked in. If it hadn't, I'd probably be sobbing for the rest of the night that she's going to hate me for the rest of our lives.

After she finished eating, I told her she could play and watch television until her bedtime. By the way, a bedtime? I haven't had one of those like ever, but Navid reminded me that kids need structure. So...proper bedtimes for a seven year old? I had to google that. It seems 8:30 PM was the consensus on Yahoo! Answers. 8:30 PM. I don't remember the last time I went to bed so early, save for passing out drunk. Still, I send her to bed, or...well...I try to send her to bed. I'm not entirely sure if that can be called a success.

She kicks. She screams. She cries. Oh God. Those tears. I've learned another thing tonight. When she cries, I cry. I had a backbone. I have no idea what happened to it! It's like the moment Maisie got here, any strength I had just disappeared.