Bundled up in his cozy fleece blanket sleeper and wrapped in his polka-dotted chamois blanket, little G's sleepy body fit perfectly into the crook of mine as we rocked tonight before bed. Sipping on warm milk with one hand, with the other he found my nose...and then his...and then my eyes...and then his...and then my long hair (that most likely tickled his fuzzy forehead) and then his.
As a point of independence, he sat up with a start, handed me the still-warm bottle, and added his version of "All done" (which, incidentally, would have been so much more effective had I included this sound byte).
My heart melted.
But, then again, what can I say -- it always does. With each moment. With each smile.
With each new trick.
Walking over the crib, we said prayers while snuggling as he nestled into the crook of my neck. After one last kiss, I laid him down.
Now typically after saying our 'good-nights,' I sneak out of his bedroom...no more eye contact, no more sound effects, no more...but tonight, I couldn't resist one last peek.
And this is what I saw: one blondie with blue eyes, head turned to track my steps past the doorway and into the hall; his right palm raised toward his soft, lilly-white cheeks and rosy lips.
While his hand moved back toward the mattress, his focus never changed. Eyes locked; hearts fluttered. I had to reciprocate.
My right palm found my lips -- smooch -- and then blew my kiss toward his sweet little smile. If air kisses are like keeping a putt lined up by watching it all the way to the cup, I am pretty sure he received my air mail. And I'm more than sure I received mine.
This new trick will be easy to get used to...