Sweet Nothings

So much of each day is filled up with tiny seemingly insignificant moments that testify of the sweetness of motherhood...

Raymond wrapped his arms around my legs, then peered up and me and smiled.

Ginny, tired and hungry and distraught, instinctively nestled in to me and let out an audible sigh of contentment at what I had to offer her.

Raymond laughed hysterically each time I threw the ball up toward the skylight in our kitchen. Dressed in only his diaper, he scampered after it each time it landed, giddy with excitement for me to throw it again.

Snuggled into her baby sling across my chest, Ginny and I danced quietly around the living room.

As I rocked and nursed, Raymond settled himself onto the couch, opened the picture Book of Mormon, and--with finger pointing emphatically at each picture--jabbered aloud the story to me.  Interjected into his pretend reading were the clearly identifiable names of Nephi and Alma.

Struggling to hold her head upright, Ginny's eyes swept around the room until she saw Raymond. And then with a look of astonishment at whatever antic he was doing, she intently watched his every move for as long as she could hold her little head up.

With sippy cup of water in one hand and  favored blanket in the other, Raymond settled comfortably into my lap so that we could sing and rock before "nigh night."

After Raymond insisted "hold her!" and I propped Ginny up on his lap, she proceeded to stare intently as he  pointed to and named all of her body parts (elbow! chin! eye! knee!)

Caught in the act of a "no! no!" Raymond quickly lowered his head and then slowly swept his eyes upward through his incredibly long red eyelashes in a look of feigned innocence. It is a look he knows to be irresistible every time.

While sitting quietly on my lap, Ginny instinctively reached out and wrapped her long slender fingers around one of my own.

Such simple, sweet little events that make me glad to live with these two little people. Glad to be recognized by them. Glad to be the one they turn to for comfort. Glad to be someone they trust and love. Glad to be responsible to nurture and love them.