One night last week I was putting Daughter to bed and we were following our usual routine of about 20 minutes of reading followed by snuggling with the lights out for a few minutes during which time we tend to debrief our day or discuss the meaning of life or some such thing. I looked at her innocent, yet impish profile in the dimness of her night light--her round cheeks and button nose. I was overwhelmed with how I'd forgotten to really notice her in the stress of the last month during which time the whole family survived the flu and the Big Move. So I laid next to her in silence for a couple minutes and just concentrated on noticing her while she gave me her current theory (on the meaning of life). I got all choked up over how amazing she is, and I interrupted her deep thinking and philosophizing to hold her close. I got all sappy with her as I expressed with great detail and emphasis how much I love her. She drank it up like a parched desert in the dead of summer. For the next several nights she would snuggle close to me as soon as the lights went out at bedtime and say, "Let's talk about love again!"
Last night we were repeating some semblance of the sappiness when the following conversation warmed my heart:
Me: "Do you know that before you were born, I wanted a little girl so badly. When you were in my tummy, and I found out you were a girl, I was so happy and couldn't wait to tell everyone!
Daughter: "Yeah! And when I was in your tummy, I wanted a mommy so badly, and when I found out that you were going to be my mommy, I was so happy that I couldn't wait to tell everyone!"
In my efforts to "refresh" my Daughter, I found myself also profoundly refreshed. And I decided that I need to return to the daily business of not just the busy-ness that has become the theme of our lives lately; I need to return to a conscious effort to slow down enough every day to simply notice the amazing treasures that are my children, and to take the time every day to tell them about it.