Night time ritual

Every night before she goes to bed, after the last nurse and diaper and pajamas, after toothbrushing and the selecting of a sticker to put on the calendar ("do you want a star or a bee or a ladybug?"), Violet will come out to me and open her mouth for inspection. I look inside.

"Looks good in there," I tell her. Then I put my face out for a kiss. "Goodnight, honey!"

"Go night!" says Violet.

"I love you!"

Nothing. She has only told me she loved me twice, under extreme prompting. Tonight, though, she ran over to the couch and grabbed a few pillows, plumping them beside my arm.

"Pee yo right hee ya," she told me, patting me. "Go night! Go night!"

"You're trying to make mama comfortable," I said. "I'm going to cry!"

"Happy mama!" she says sternly. "No waaaah mama."

No waaaah mama! I totally agree.

Today Phil and his brother went shopping with the babies. I got the day off to go to Lee and Ron's baby shower, and hang out with Steve and Mariana. Lots of babies, lots of talking about babies. I missed my baby. When she finally got home, at 6, I squatted down and held out my arms, expecting her to rush into them, but she went on by. I got such a chill in my heart. How long will it be before she's embarrassed by my wanting a hug? Surely my heart will break.

We reconnected after dinner. I finished nursing her, and she hopped on top of me while I was lying on her bed.

"I ride!" she suggested. "Need hat." She often selects different headgear for different purposes. She particularly likes to wear the red cowboy hat on the rocking horse, but this time she went for the brown velvet riding helmet.

I bounce her up and down to the Lone Ranger theme. I do quick sharp bounces, and heavy slow bounces. I shake from side to side. I roll in slow circles. Her face, above me, is round like the moon. She is smiling so hard. My legs are so tired, but I have to keep it up, have to see more of that smile. It's like a drug.