Violet Love

Last week, I got to hold my daughter. I know that this sounds silly, because I regularly hold my daughter, but last week I simply held her without nursing her. For quite some time, too - this wasn't a stolen hug or a rushed squeeze, but clearly an intentional snuggle on her part. She's been letting me do this every day since then. Oh she's still nursing, but I am thrilled to have some physical interaction with her that doesn't require me being naked to the waist.

I got to kiss the top of her head and smell the sweetness of her hair. She played with my earrings, touching them gently with much wonder, cooing, "Oooh! Pwebby!" This moment of stillness seemed jarringly vaporous -- almost as if the very molecules of her soul stopped pinging around in a toddler frenzy and began vibrating with the same frequency my heart emits. Time stretched and the world narrowed in to my shoulders. This instant her soft, shallow breath barely dented the atmosphere, yet her gravity pulled every joy into the space between us.

I love that merely being with her is enough to fill her soul -- she demands so little from us, so easy has her infanthood been. She is steadfast in her curiosity and unrelenting in her quest for independence, but she clearly enjoys being with us. When she wakes in the morning, her first thought and first glance seek her brother. She peers anxiously over my shoulder, asking, "Milo?" as I pluck her from the crib.

"He's downstairs with Daddy."

Her face lights up, "Da-dee? 'stairs?"

"Yes, Daddy is downstairs with Milo. Do you want to go downstairs?"

Grin, "Yep!" Her first affirmation "huh-huh" has been replaced with the colloquial, "Yep!" This tickles me to no end. Milo was a "Yes" man and Violet is a "Yep" girl...

She gasps, "My bake-et! Pee-Bear bake-et!" She asks to bring her Winnie-the-Pooh blanket downstairs and squeals with delight when I scoop it up. She clutches it under her chin and repeats, "My bake-et!"

Little Miss loves it when we're all together, she'll grab my hand and drag me to the couch, saying, "Mere, mommy! Sit dere!" so that I'll sit next to Scott, then she scrambles up and wiggles in between us, beckoning Milo, "Miiiii-lo! Miiiii-lo!" Nothing makes this child happier than a family snuggle.

I can't say that I blame her -- that's pretty much my favorite time of the day, too.