I am woken up by little sounds. Little sounds that fill my "new mom" soul with relief that everything is okay. At 6AM on the dot, Georgia Grace is telling us that she's hungry. I sit up and peek in her room.
She doesn't cry really. It's kind of a whiny noise. Chris gets up to make her bottle. We take turns- I did it yesterday morning, so it's his turn today. We've gotten good at this parenting thing. He goes into her sweet pink room, and I hear the cheerful "Hiya!' come from my little baby's mouth in between hungry whines. She now knows that "Hiya" is a proper greeting, that we clap when she says it, and she loves nothing better than to get us to clap and praise her when she does...just about anything.
It's our usual morning routine. She has her baba in bed with me, while Chris walks Buckley. I feel guilty for half a second that Chris has to walk the dog in the freezing cold while I get to snuggle with our sweetie, but as soon as she turns towards me, my guilt is replaced with glee, and I kiss her cute little face, and feel proud that she can now hold her baba herself.
Her adorable eyes are open. I wonder what she is thinking about. We smile at each other. She gulps, gulps, gulps like a big girl. I decide she is probably thinking about food, while I am thinking about love. I compare her to Buckley. Then I uncompare her to Buckley. Then I remember I have to go to work, and I silently curse. Having 10 days off from work has totally spoiled me. I missed her so much yesterday and I dread leaving her today.
Georgia finishes her baba, and tosses it aside. It cracks me up when she "tosses things aside". She is making decisions. "I don't want this anymore!' It is so funny to watch children start to process thoughts and opinions. Or maybe, it is so funny to watch my own child process thoughts and opinions. I remember when you were a little seedling in my belly, and now you toss your bottle aside like you own the joint. In a way, she does own the joint.
She sits up, looks around, and then falls forward and belly crawls towards my night stand.I usually have some of her toys sitting there or books...shimmying over to Club Nightstand is usual business, and I get ready to hand her some toy that was laying there waiting to be drooled on. She usually crawls over me to get to the night stand, so when she puts her hands on my chest and tried to scoot upwards, I think nothing of it.
I give her a helpful push up, she is on my chest, and I expect her to crawl off of me towards treasure.
LAND HO! There is the nightstand! Give me my toys servant!
Instead, Georgia stays on top of me. She puts her cheek on my chest, her hands grab my hair, and with a low, almost throaty, sob-like whisper, she says,
"Mama."
She pats my cheek.
Lump in my throat. Ache in the pit of my stomach. Tears in my eyes. A choking gasp.
She is thinking about me.
ME!
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