Thursday, November 30, 2006

Like the sky.

Last week when we were at Nana and Papa's house, I was no longer on your to do list. I barely got a sideways glance. The break was nice, I suppose, but I began to miss your cuddling and demanding I chase you. Dad explained that I am like the sky to you -- always there -- so you don't worry about not giving me attention for a bit; I'll return your love when you're ready again.

And this week, you've been especially loving. Tonight, you played with my necklace and said, "this is my mommy, you are my mommy" in this soft voice. I melted. You are so dear to me, in your fleece pig pajamas and hair smelling of California Baby bath soap.

I might not be writing to you every day (at least not for a bit) but, like the sky...

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