Home > the mommy thing > you are…

you are…

I write this as you lie on the mattress on the floor in front of me, sprawled on your stomach with your arm above your head. No matter how you start the night – no matter how I lay you down – you flop yourself into this position within moments, then dream the night away.

On the weekends, you take your naps in my arms, a warm weight on my lap as your little head flops back, into the crook of my arm, the mix of our sweat staining your hair where it lays in my elbow. Your perfect little bow of a mouth gaps open as you breath, then twitches into a smile that takes my breath away.

I try to get up before you on the weekdays, in an attempt to get a few things done that are easier performed without a baby in my arms, as well as to have a few moments to myself. I bring the video monitor with me, and often wind up sitting with my cup of coffee, watching you slumber. You are so peacefully perfect.

Today we went to the playroom downstairs for a change of pace and space, and as you bounced and laughed, you would look at me with the smile in your eyes, and reach out your arm to pat my face.

Just before you fell asleep tonight, we lay on that mattress face to face and you stared into my eyes. And then I tickled your tummy, and you giggled infectiously. It’s a giggle that has been coming fast and furious these past few days, and it makes my heart skip a beat every time I hear it.

You cry each and every time I leave you, though I have it on good authority that you are back to your wonderfully smiley self within minutes. And your face lights up with a smile every time I come back, as your reach your arms up and then cuddle into my side, and then refuse to let me go for the rest of the night (or at least an hour or two).

You are moving all over the place these days, in all directions but forwards. You scoot and you crawl backwards, move from sitting to tummy and then back to sitting once more. You can get yourself from one side of the room to the other in the blink of an eye, but your favorite place to go is still pulling yourself into my lap.

You still bury your face in my chest and shoulder whenever you get tired, and still try to suck on my arm whenever you are hungry. And you still invariably laugh whenever my hair tickles your face, and then try to grab it for yourself. And then you grab for my necklace, the one with your initial, the one I never take off… and you never get tired of.

You still wake in the middle of the night, needing me to come for you. And then we sit and cuddle as the world is dark around us, and often fall asleep together, you a warm and welcome weight in my arms.

Each laugh, each tickle, each stupid repetitious rhyming song I sing to you; each spoonful of peas, each bath full of bubbles, each nightly struggle into your pyjamas; each load of laundry, each daily packing of bottles, each morning application of Aquaphor; each of these is simply, solely, singularly because… you are my heart.

Categories: the mommy thing
  1. 2012/02/03 at 10:11 am

    I have a baby book (that I’m supposed to write monthly updates in as well as letters). Want to ghost write for me? Great post.

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