I have yet to experience anything sweeter and more satisfying than unsolicited love from my baby. Sure, she hugs me and kisses me when I ask her to, which is absolutely precious, but the most rewarding hugs and kisses are the ones she chooses to give me. The voluntary head resting on my shoulder is one of the greatest feelings in the world to me. Every now and again, she'll ask me to pick her up (quite a feat these days) and squeeze me as tight as her chubby little arms can squeeze or give me a little peck (usually 10 little pecks) with those ridiculously full lips. Heart officially melted.
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| Look at those lips. |
But nothing prepared me for the moment when my child said "I love you" back to me after saying it to her every day, multiple times a day, for nearly two years. Actually, I have yet to hear "I love you" in so many words, but Teagan's version: "Ya you" is infinitely sweeter. We get plenty of practice as I tell her I love her after we go through the ol' Time Out routine and she says it back. The rational part of me recognizes that she's repeating what I'm saying to her, but the mushy part of me things that there could be worse things she could be parroting and that I should enjoy the moment. Every time I hear those three two words strung together, I'm reminded of why I wanted so badly to become a parent in the first place - a welcome reminder after disciplining. Ooh, I "ya" her so much.
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