Almost every night I get to put Aria to bed. It's a quiet time in the recliner with some warm milk, the Twilight Turtle and the air purifier. We are just quiet. Sometimes I sing, but mostly, we just listen to drinking and breathing. Recently, after she's drank her milk, I've been poking my chest, then hers and saying, "I. Love. You." and it sends her into the sleepiest milk giggles with her pacifier tucked to one side of her mouth.
Tonight, she pulled her little hand out, poked her chest, and then mine, slightly making the tones of "I. Love. You." First, my heart exploded, then, I returned the thank you with my own fit of giggles, which seemed to connect with her. We both giggled quietly, squeezing extra tight in an embrace, noses touching.
Earlier this evening I got the most wonderful greeting from her. Bobbling into the kitchen to see me, dodging the dogs tails and reaching up, little fists opening and closing. I make the grandest event of scooping her up, swinging her high and squeezing her extra close. I puckered my lips and leaned in for a kiss, and she leaned back! A real kiss!
It's moments like these, more than first teeth or first steps, that stand out in my mind and I desperately want to remember: first real exchanges of love. The magnitude of understanding love and giving it back. These are my very, very favorite things.
No comments:
Post a Comment