What is so sad about pork, couscous, and corn?

I'm tired. That must be it. And I just want to finish those darn knitting projects that have been hanging over my head forever so that I can play with my new, pretty yarn. Which is tempting on days like today, when, for no obvious reason, I head to the freezer a little more frequently for a nibble of chocolate. Of course that's a sign that I am most likely not pregnant again for another month, which is always a welcome relief. Nevertheless, crying right after dinner (and thus fogging up my contacts) is not something I enjoy doing. So maybe tomorrow will be the day I get that womanly monthly gift. Usually the tears come first.
But I ought not dwell on that. I ate chocolate and the last butterscotch pudding, so I should feel better. Or fatter. Ugh. Thank God for the gym. And all the swimming that Little and I did today. She is truly delightful, and especially so in the water. Her excitement and joy at the smallest things makes life so sweet. She's getting difficult with her eating again, but it could be because she's getting her seventh tooth and her mouth might be sore, so I ought not worry too much. I can't decide if I should just let go and accept that she will eat what and if she wants, or if I should continue this battle royale that we fight every mealtime on her highchair tray. What's tough with kids is that there is no definite answer.
Today, as I was driving home from swimming, I wondered what kind of person she will turn out to be. My first thought was that I was pretty good, so if she could be like me... but I quickly realized how foolish that was, so I decided that as long as she knows who she is and what she believes in (values which we, her parents will instill in her), that she stays true to those beliefs, it doesn't matter what kind of person she becomes. Though in a sense, those virtues will largely rule who she ends up being, so how can we differentiate the two? But that's not where my thoughts led me this afternoon. I thought about mistakes I made, times that I wasn't true to my upbringing. And Little certainly won't be perfect either. How could she be? She has my genes! So then my mind wandered to all sorts of troubles she could get herself into, and I had to say a quick little prayer in hopes that she not go down those paths. After all, I certainly was not perfect, but I didn't go down the deep end either, and what a scary thought, for my daughter to make so many bad choices that her life is left in shambles... I would hate for that to happen to her. I guess I did a lot of overthinking. So my point in all this. I finally came to the question, do I have to accept her, even if she makes choices that I know in my heart are wrong? Love her, yes. Always and unconditionally, but accept? Is acceptance just a little part of love? And then, the bigger question, does God accept us with all our faults and bad choices? He loves us, surely, but does he accept us? I don't know; maybe I'm hung up on a word. There is the whole "love the sinner but hate the sin" concept. Does that mean we are loved but not accepted? What is the difference between the two words?
Gah, I feel like I'm not quite getting my question across, and now the word "accept" looks funny because I've written it too many times.
Here is what I know: I love my daughter and I'm crazy about her, even despite her frustrating noneating and her tantrum-y impatience. Maybe that's the answer.