Hugs, Love

"Millions and millions of years would still not give me half enough time to describe that tiny instant of all eternity when you put your arms around me and I put my arms around you." -Jacques Prévert

Maeve is growing.  She's growing in many ways, but one of them is emotionally.  She is now afraid of strangers and loud voices, of the vacuum and the electric carving knife. She hides behind my legs or must be held in new situations.  But she also understands Chase, and Tickle, and other more complex ideas. 

The best bit of growth lately has been in the hug department.  She used to casually sling her arm around my shoulders, but it was more to steady herself than an expression of emotion.  These days, though, she comes running at me full-tilt, arms up, and wraps her arms around my neck in the vise-grip of true love.  It's very squeezy and marvelous, and makes me feel like the best Momma ever.

I get hugs when I get her out of her crib, and hugs when she is excited about what's in a book.  I get them when I'm "saving" her from Daddy's tickles, and I get them just for getting her out of her carseat.  I get them when it's windy or cold, I get them just because.

I take each hug with the gratitude of a Mom who feels appreciated, who feels loved.  It's the best Christmas present, going from just the Lady who Does Everything to a Beloved, Safe Person.  Despite the current torrents of tantrums, demands, messes, and drama, I am enjoying Maeve at age one and a half, very much indeed.

Marvelous, darling, but don't eat the crayon.