toots is still sick. if she isn't vomiting, she's pooping. if she isn't pooping, she's sleeping. and if she isn't sleeping, then she's curled inside my lap, tiny hand in shirt, holding on to my nipples for comfort (residuals from breast-feeding, perhaps?).
lying on her stomach, breathing softly, peacefully, i massage the aches and pains out of her neck, back and legs. when i'm done, she stretches, yawns and smiles faintly. "thank you, mommy", she whimpered. "you're so welcome, baby", i replied, kissing her forehead, the tip of her nose and chubby little cheeks as i do. i inhale. she still smells like baby and bliss. nestling further under my chin, she points to my fingernails while holding out her own. "paint"? i chuckle. she doesn't have her ears pierced, but i have softened in regards to letting her wear polish (light, one coat, so it doesn't last long).
in these moments, i find myself excited for a future filled with spa visits and dresses and picnics and travel and a life ripe with art and cultural experience with a tootie by my side...or even...on my shoulders...
Those precious moments and those baby toes...love them both
ReplyDelete