(Baby don’t hurt me, no more)
Had to get that out of my system. Really, this is simply a quick note, a reminder for myself more than anyone else. I used to think that love meant my parents coming to pick me up when I was stuck in a bad situation, or buying me shoes I loved. When I was dating, I thought that love was kissing in the rain and holding hands at the movies. When I got married, I thought love was my husband cooking me dinner and rubbing my feet. (I eventually decided that it really was him doing the dishes. Best form of love ever.) Before I had a kiddo, I believed love would manifest itself in the sleepless nights, the time spent covered in bodily fluids, and the changes that ensued after pregnancy.
This week, I discovered I was wrong again.
Love is hugging a little person when she needs it, but doesn’t want it. Love is hiding kale in her berry smoothie. Love is watching Frozen and Finding Nemo and Sarah & Duck and Veggie Tales and Wonder Pets 80 times within 24 hours.
And love is choosing to love every moment.