Pure bliss. That is how I feel about being Eva’s mother. At least, that’s how I feel in the daytime after a good night, right after she’s eaten and is all smiles and cuddles and trying new things and growing up while still staying small.
I’m a pretty lucky girl.
Brand new little babies will always, always hold a tender spot in my heart and probably be my favorite sessions because they all allow me to take my time and really craft a wonderful image. But older babies, I don’t know. There is just something magical about getting to know a person just as she is figuring out who she is and who she wants to be–something about learning that she truly wants to be happy, that she just can’t wait to eat what’s on everyone else’s plate and play with everyone else’s toys, that she finds joy figuring out how to get around, that’s she’s completely ticklish but doesn’t yet know she’s supposed to laugh, and that she likes funny noises but after a while they get a little bit scary. It’s amazing to be recognized as the source of all things comforting and to know that the hollow between your chin and shoulder is someone’s very most favorite place to be. There’s nothing quite like looking at your baby and catching glimpses of the rest of her life. You want to hold on and make time stop, and you want to jump ahead and see who she will be 5, 10, 20 years from now.
My heart is so full of words that my fingers can’t seem to type.
Eva, 6 months:
Her mouth still kills me.
Perfection.
75% of her day is spent like this–trying to figure out how to move forward:).
And how I knew it was time to stop for the day:
Eva at 1 week:
…and 6 months (disclaimer–this is a composite. Daddy was right there, but in the interest of preserving his dignity, I will not be posting the image of him in pajama pants kneeling by the stool, hands barely inches away spotting her):
More and more every day baby girl. Every day, I love you more.
Mom
