savoring: baby love

Since she spends half the day driving me nuts, I thought it was a good time to share what I love about the other half of the time. Otherwise it's easy to overlook.

She crawls with these blocks in her hand, and I can hear her coming from the other side of the apartment. Fwop, fwop. Fwop, fwop.




Sometimes I look up from what I'm doing to find one eye peering out at me, engaged in a one-sided game of peek-a-boo. She plays peek-a-boo behind anything: my lap top, a book, a washcloth, a chair leg. When I duck away I always find her eyes edging around the corner to find me first- the temptation is too great and it cracks me up.




She wants to walk, but it has to be on her terms. I offer her my finger when I get up to cross the room (lest she think I'm leaving her forever), and as she reaches for it, she shrieks and drops to the floor in a tantrum. To think, I almost tricked her into accepting help.




I love the dirty tops of her feet. It won't be much longer until only the bottoms are this filthy.




She's exploring food as babies do. Even if she's hungry, food is too exciting to simply eat. A handful of cheerios to scatter across the floor. She squishes them meticulously with her pointer finger and watches them jump across the carpet.




We can look at each other now when she nurses. It used to distract her too much. Now I have the luxury of gazing into her quiet, searching eyes. Sometimes it becomes a staring contest and I see just what it takes to get her to pop off because she can't nurse while smiling. Those are my favorite smiles.

She's still a squirmy nurser, but with intent these days. She nurses so seriously, concentrating on something far away. But those feet. She always offers them to me. Care for a taste? I always do. They're delicious.

How did I not notice that they've doubled in size? Time for another round of ink prints.

Whatever she's holding, she has to share. If it's paper, she rips it in half and hands me whatever made it to her right hand. Again and again until the paper is too small to rip, and then we start all over. It's very important business.




We're working on more sleep at night. This one's not a solid sleeper, never has been. It's tough work, but I wouldn't give up sleeping with her for anything. How long will I get to roll over and feel a tickle of sweet baby hair under my nose? Waking up to that sleepy girl with a crescent of milk on the corner of her mouth, it's worth it all.

Oh, and this face. Bottle this feeling up and spread it across the world. Instant bliss.