What Matters Most

Molars. I hate molars. They hurt my little girl. They make her whiny and uncomfortable, and confused. She doesn't know if she wants to eat, bite her fingers, be up my butt, or be left alone. She won't nap. I feel so bad for her.

BUT-

When she relaxes enough for a snuggle, she melts into the nook of my neck and we sigh together-with matching smiles on our faces. She looks up at me for just a moment and falls back against by chest, nuzzling in just a little deeper than before. And we just breathe.

Until all hell breaks loose again and she starts chasing around the cat. She plays peekaboo with me in between not knowing if she wants up or down. She demands to eat her goldfish and then smashes them into the carpet out of frustration. Her poor little gums swell up to where she hardly has to open her mouth for me to see.

Six o'clock came around tonight and she must have been so exhausted from teething that she didn't even want to eat dinner. Forget about bath time. So I gave her some Tylenol and carried her to her room, cradled in my arms like she was a newborn again. She silently stared up at me, body limp, Dolly barely hanging in her grasp. I softly sang to her as I changed her diaper and put her jammies on and she didn't even try to fight me. I was on round six of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star when I placed her in her crib, body still limp-she was finally relaxed. She smiled up at me as I finished the song, still stoking her hair. I blew her a kiss and told her I loved her, sweet dreams. Her sweet little lids closed and she was out for the night.

I love moments like these. Even when I've had a hard day, mentally and physically, all I have to do is hear one giggle, catch one smirk, or watch how peaceful she sleeps. And nothing else matters. These moments fill my eyes with tears. Happy tears.

Because I'm so lucky she chose me as her mommy.