Cuddle

After an earlier than usual wake up time this morning, we found ourselves with time to spare. I was showered, my hair was dry and my outfit for the day was waiting on the bed. The baby was dressed and when I looked at the clock, I saw we had 20 minutes before it was time to pack ourselves up.

So we cuddled. I laid back on my bed and held my daughter on my chest. She is taking up a lot more space these days. No longer spanning 21 inches of my torso as she did when she was a newborn. I'd say she is up to about 25-26 inches by now. Her legs kick and her head bobs up and down, side to side and she excitedly takes in each and every new vision around her.

I kissed her cheeks. The cheeks that seem to get softer each day. Cheeks that grow and change shape with each meal. I can't stop kissing her cheeks. I feel a rush each time my lips touch her face and she smiles and grins and maybe even lets out a tiny laugh.

I hold her feet in my hands. Not so tiny feet. She wore 12 month socks at 3 months old. I hold her feet and she kicks her legs and without saying a word, she wants to move.

I move her to standing position. She lights up. She can stand (with help, of course) and she is happier than she has been all morning. She moves her head around as if she is looking for more people to impress with this special talent.

I look at the clock. It is time to get dressed. It is time to start the transition out the door. She is tired. That early morning wake up is catching up to her and her eyes tell the story of a baby ready to fall asleep.

I pull on my skirt, check my black shirt for stains and grab the baby and head downstairs. I cuddle her one more time. I kiss her cheeks. Still soft. I buckle her in and we head out the door.

The countdown to more cuddle time begins and it can't come soon enough.