Mush

I did not write anything magnificent on this blog for Mother's Day, and as I read some of the other blogs I like on Sunday, I felt I'd fallen down on the job somewhat.

But the funny thing is, for an almost morbidly navel-gazing girl like me, motherhood at its best is free of the agonizing spirals of introspection to which I typically subject all life experiences. Most of the time, I let myself just "be" with Miles, and afterwards there's no that much to say that wouldn't make you as a reader just cringe (but also, if you're a mom, understand). Should I count how many times I kissed his little face and NOMNOMNOMNOMMED his cheeks? Should I relate how we said "gggggooooo goo" to each other until I totally lost track of time? Could I possibly describe how I savor every moment, even during the night when I'm waking a thousand times and there, inches away, I can still hear his little whooshing breaths?

The day before Mother's Day we went to my mother-in-laws to spend time with the parentals and the BIL & SIL and their kids. Soon after we arrived I managed to get Miles down for a nap in the guest bedroom, and about a half hour later I could hear through the din his desperate cry. I ran to him and found him wailing, unhappy at being awake, alone, and maybe disoriented. I carried him out to the family and he just clung to me, leaning his head against my body for comfort, clutching my sweater tightly. He'd never outwardly shown his attachment to me in that way and I about died. Of happiness. Before I had a kid I always thought the expression "in love" was a bit strange in relation to one's children, but now I totally get it. Remember the days of puppy love when you felt like you and your sweetheart were the only people in the room and you could barely pay attention to what anyone else around you was saying? With my son in my arms I return to that feeling, that cocooning bliss.

I'm immersed in all the cliches and I don't care. Every day is precious. I took a photo of my baby's thigh because I caught a glimpse of all his teensy blond legs hairs in the sunlight and thought there could be nothing more adorable. I have been accused of being a child worshipper and I confess. I plead hormonal intoxication. I plead not guilty by reason of yummy baby toes.