Those Cheeks

 

These are the cheeks dreams are made of.

 

They are like ripe little peaches, all soft and fuzzy. They even smell good – well, when they aren't covered in yogurt or mashed potatoes. 

 

These cheeks lift up to share his smiles, and tremble when his happiness fades. These cheeks still boast the round plumpness of babyhood though they have lost a little volume in the last few months.

 

He is busy transforming from baby to toddler. With every passing day he squirms and scoots just a bit further from me. Before I know it he will be running around without my help.

 

 

Sometimes I think he feels the coming changes too, and is trying to keep them at bay. He has always been a very independent baby but now he protests any separation between himself and his mommy. He wants Mama when he's crying. He wants Mama when it's time for bed. He wants Mama just about anytime he hears my voice or sees me walk by. 

 

Now and then I have a moment where his desire for constant closeness strains me. I find myself wishing that he would just give me a break and let Daddy put him to bed or console him when his teeth are hurting. I've been known to sneak around in my own house just to avoid his Mama-detector.

 

But then, in the middle of the night I crawl out of bed to my screaming child – the one who is practically clawing through the side of his crib hollering "MAAAAAAA!!!". I pick him up. I hold him close. I nuzzle my face into those cheeks… 

 

and I know I need him just as much as he needs me.