In the Midst of It

I love a newborn. Soft, smooth skin and fuzzy, downy hair. A wrinkled little face and tiny rolls of baby fat. Toothlessness. Hiccups. Baby sighs. Baby breath.

Baby breath--that's something I wish we could keep, even over the smooth baby skin. The rest of the above list comes back to us as we age, except it's not nearly as cute the second time around.

It's a sad day when our babies get big enough not only to have normal breath of their own, but to recognize it--and dislike it--in others, namely their mamas.

This morning Caiden brought me breakfast in bed: a large Dallas Cowboys cup filled with organic Cheerio-type cereal, and a spoon. No milk. He brought its twin to Chris, who cleverly suggested Mama would feel special if she got both of them. Caiden climbed onto the bed and handed me the two cups as I tried to open my eyes. "Oh! And Mama! I've got your Valentine's Day presents! I'll go get them!" Everything that child has ever said has been marked with exclamation points. He's a spinning ball of glee, all the time. On days like Valentine's, it's precious. On other days, it makes me old.

He ran back into the room with three pieces of paper. The first was a picture of a tree with hearts floating to the sky, and a big "M" written on it. "It's hearts all the way up to the sky because I love you that much!"

The second was a paper boat with hearts on it. "It's a Love Boat!" I laughed so hard I was now awake.

The third was a card, folded with hearts drawn on front and back. When I read it, I burst into tears: "Mom, I luv you," the letters written wherever they would fit, not necessarily in line or in order. Hearts drawn everywhere. It's the first card he has given me, created without any help or suggestion, and he spent an hour on it yesterday, hidden behind his closed bedroom door. He brought Chris the same three items, almost identical except marked with Ds instead of Ms. I prepared Chris for the card while Caiden was rummaging in his room, telling him it was the best card I'd ever gotten in my entire life. I showed it to him. He wasn't quite as touched.

When Caiden showed him his card, Chris did his best, "Caiden, that's so wonderful! Thank you!" Caiden looked at him, not impressed. "Yeah, well Mama cried." Then Chris proceeded to do an Oscar-worthy fake cry, which was almost as fun as getting the Valentine's Day cards in the first place.

Caiden finished his presentation and closed in for the hug as I still lay in bed. "Oh, Mama, you're beautiful! And you smell so good!" Then he paused. "Even if the air around your breath is stinky."

He's my funny, funny Valentine. God outdid Himself when He made that boy.

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