Glimpse.
August 26, 2010

It is morning and we are laying in bed, falling in love.  Where’s Charlotte?, I ask as I throw a sheet over her body.  She pulls it down, flashing a triumphant grin, and we laugh.  Again, she signs, again.

Then we are changing her diaper, counting her toes, tickling her belly, pinching her cheeks.  We are chasing one another in circles around the house, and I am picking her up to shower her with kisses.  I love you so much, I tell her as I set her down.  Then I pat her bottom as she toddles off.  She looks back at me, smiling, anticipating.  I’m going to get you!, I yell out, even though I’m already tired of this game.

Soon we are sharing breakfast.  She is trying to use a spoon for the very first time, refusing to let me help her.  But she is so proud of herself every time some food makes it into her mouth that I sit there, clapping and smiling and cheering her on.  Afterwards, she is still hungry.  More, she signs.  Momma, more.  I cut up two strawberries.

Next we are snuggling on the reading chair.  I let her pick twelve books and we are reading them all, pointing out every animal and food and color and body part along the way.  My throat is dry, but she is enthralled.  I even read a few of the books twice.

Then we are building wood block towers and every time I announce LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I PRESENT TO YOU THE ONE, THE ONLY, BABY-ZILLA, she chuckles and knocks them down.  Blocks, she signs, and I nod.  That’s right, baby, I tell her.  These are blocks.

Before I know it, we are preparing lunch.  She is in a sling, snug against my body, head on my shoulder, watching as I slice a peach and spread sunflower butter on bread.  I tear off little pieces of fresh spinach for her while I work.  Afterwards, she hugs me and babbles while I wash dishes.

Soon, we are playing at the park.  We are running back and forth between two trees, playing a rudimentary form of tag.  She is laughing hysterically and another little baby is watching us intently.  His mother waves at me.  You two look like you’re having a fun time, she says.  Mind if we join you?  And, of course, we don’t mind at all.

It is afternoon and we are laying in bed, falling in love.  I am running my fingers through her hair, and she is drinking my milk, gurgling happily as we both close our eyes.  I love you, I whisper, oh, I love you so.


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  1. By Tabitha (From Single to Married) on August 26, 2010

    sounds like the perfect way to spend a day!

  2. By Alicia S. on August 26, 2010

    I’m in my last few days/weeks of work before I have the baby and officially take on the role of full-time homemaker. My husband and I fantasize about my being able to have days like these with our kids. As it is sometimes we’re both away from the house for a full twelve hours and it can be such a strain to function once we do get home with the kids… I can’t wait to be so lucky.

  3. By Sarahviz on August 26, 2010

    I love this one.

  4. By Valerie on August 26, 2010

    Oh, I should not have read that at work.  Sniff sniff.  I miss my baby!

    Beautifully written.

  5. By Molly on August 26, 2010

    Oh…so incredibly beautiful.  Most of our days are spent the same way, basking in eachother. Isn’t life just so lovely?

  6. By Ruth Berry on August 26, 2010

    ...and AGAIN, you make me cry.

    That’s just beautiful.

  7. By on August 28, 2010

    You’ll write a piece, I’ll read it and think “That’s the best one she’s written.“ and then it happens all over again…so you’ve done it once again with this latest piece. I love how it takes me back to those days with my children. How quickly it all passes…even tho it really isn’t quick. So how wonderful you are able to capture it in words…

  8. By Annie @ PhD in Parenting on August 28, 2010

    What a beautiful post. Thank you for sharing those great moments from your day with us.


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