The house is a bit of a mess, there are dishes & clutter, there is lots of laundry, but I am sitting up in bed, with a sleeping, feverish infant on my chest.
I was trying to get some work done; get some of her new clothes organized and put away. Little girl ran out of patience though. She didn’t want me to restart her music toy, or move duckie so she could reach him. She wanted to be picked up. I thought maybe I could move her to her bouncy seat and that would buy me a few more minutes to get something done around here.
But the second I picked her up, she rested her hot little forehead on my neck and went to sleep. It was such a simple thing. At this age she doesn’t speak or really even gesture. She doesn’t yet laugh, or reach out to me. Because of this, I don’t really get a lot of feedback. Sometimes I wonder if she just thinks of me as a giant food dispenser.
She doesn’t. I know that now from the way she found comfort in my arms. All too soon she’ll learn to talk, and kiss and hug, and make Mother’s Day cards with glitter and macaroni. But I think I will always remember today as the first time she told me she loved me.