The Power of Touch

As I open my eyes I find you looking at me to see when I’ll wake up. You stroke my cheek with your chubby little fingers and give me a smile brighter than the light streaming into the room. “Get up Mama!” signals the start of the day.

You’ve been playing in the garden and you’ve hurt your hand. You come to me with tears in your eyes and ask me to make it OK. I rub and kiss your hand until the pain goes away. You then ask me to hold you. As I lift you into my arms I marvel at how big you’ve become.

You were such a tiny baby as I held you for the first time. You looked at me with those big round eyes and as I stroked your hand with my finger you curled your fingers around it as if to tell me you knew who I was.

My family would remark “You’re not holding him correctly!” not knowing that for a baby who would wriggle so much, it was the only way to hold you. Even now you cannot sit still unless of course someone is reading to you.

And now you’re so big that you want me to put my hands up higher when you do a high five. You can still jump up and reach me. We hold hands with teddy and sing Ring-a-ring-a-roses and when we all fall down you lie flat on the floor.

It’s raining and it’s such a novelty that you run outside to feel the rain on your hands. Till it stops you’re content to make snowmen out of your play dough. I watch as you roll the dough in your little hands. You use the pencil to make the snowman’s eyes.

Now you have your apron on and you’re clutching the paint brush and painting snakes on the cardboard. In the end you abandon the brush and just dip both your hands in the paint. It’s more fun that way. And the most fun is when you wash your hands and get to play with the water.

But the very best moment of the day is when you leave your play to come to kiss me and hug me. You always kiss both cheeks and I just love your tight hugs!