I AM SOMEONE'S MOM

Lows in the 30s right now and I'm not into it. I got Sloane a couple of winter hats last week and she gets the most pleased look on her face when I put one on her. I also got these mittens that turned out to be too big and she was utterly amused by them when she got them on her hands; so, I guess that makes me feel like, okay, we can make it through this winter. Yes, she inevitably ends up whipping off her socks when she's sitting in the car, but she is always happy to have me put them back on, yelling, 'tocks! tocks! (socks! socks!)' helpfully, as I put them back on her feet.

Last weekend, for reasons still unbeknownst to us, Soane had a bout of diarrhea that bummed all of us out. She woke up from her nap on Sunday afternoon in a fit of tears and screams that had us wondering what the heck was going on, and she proceeded to have what appeared to be painful diarrhea every 2-3 hours for the next 48 hours. It was heartbreaking to see her in pain and then get exhausted from all the screaming and crying. She has gotten sick before, but in mild doses and was never visibly in pain and it felt horridly unfair that someone so tiny who had no idea what was going on had to experience a pain like that for so long. It was tiring for all of us, but none of that mattered when she would put her head on my shoulder, snuggle in, and want to be held for much longer than usual. I spent the day at home from work on Monday so that I could be with her and the whole day was spent changing diapers, cleaning up, giving her baths, holding and comforting figuring out what bland foods to give her, and a lot more holding and cuddling. It was one of those days where I distinctively felt like, I am her mom! And she needs me, specifically me. Later that afternoon, she seemed to be feeling better, so we went on a walk and we were both stunned to silence by the gloriously perfect fall day. We padded along, enjoying the sun on our faces and marveling at the bright blue hue of the sky. Sloane pointed and yelled. 'yah!' to every car and flag and bush, she noticed rocks and sticks on the ground that needed to be picked up, and hurried over to flowers that demanded to be sniffed, and obliged. She was happy about the leaves that were aplenty on the ground and gave each one a turn, twirling in her hands, until the next leaf's turn.

After I put her to bed that night, she kept crying me back in and asking for more snuggles. She is usually quick to get to bed, so I guessed she was still feeling bad, made an exception and stayed with her for what ended up being an extra 45 minutes, holding and swaying and singing, until she let me put her back in her crib and fell asleep. My arms ached but I felt fat with love. It's not just that it feels good to be needed. I feel lucky to be the person who knows my daughter like I do and be able to love her in the way she needs.