Emma laughed a little, shrugging her shoulders at Lois' question. The truth was, she really didn't know how. "Necessity, mostly?" she guessed, grinning a bit. She picked up the cup with one hand, making sure the other rested protectively on Aislinn's tummy. The first sip in all its cinnamon glory was almost worth the morning full of Phoebe and her band of merry singalong moms.
"I don't know," she admitted, looking almost hesitant. "I really think I just do what needs to be done. Makes sense, doesn't it? It's what I've done my whole life. Something needs doing, I figure out a way. I think the same goes with raising her." She'd read some of the books that Henry had checked out for her, and she occasionally checked in on those parenting websites. But, for the most part, Emma focused on experience. If something she did made the baby fussy, then she didn't do it again. If she relaxed her daughter, she made note and did it again. If something needed three hands and she only had two, she found a way to make it work.
Frankly, it was how she'd survived as long as she had. And it was how she'd survive as a mother, as well. "You know you're not going to break her, don't you?" Emma teased, though gently. Because, admittedly, she occasionally worried over the same thing. The baby was just so tiny. "You're wonderful with her. And you're learning. It just takes practice."