Soul Feast

One of the many perks of motherhood – of parenting, in general – is snuggling. I’ve only recently discovered this, as my oldest isn’t a snuggler; she’s more of a wiggler and a “get-down-and-go-play”-er. My baby, however – or the one I’m currently still able to call my baby for a couple more months – is a puddle of snuggly warmth, not all times of the day, mind you, but sometimes, and those sometimes count for a lot; it puts cents on the chart, as my little brother used to say – the Mommy chart.

Today, after Essie got up from her nap, I had her alone for a few minutes, as Daddy took Abby to go do an errand. The first thing Essie says every day when she gets up from her nap – besides “Milk, Mom” – is, “Monkey, Mom, monkey,” which I’ll translate for you as, “I want to watch Curious George, please, Mom.” So being thus charged, I plopped her down next to me on my bed and scanned through the 18 DVR recordings we have of this show, found one she hadn’t yet viewed, and pressed play. While she sucked down her milk, I sat about a foot away from her, both of us outstretched and propped up on the bed pillows. After awhile, when the milk was consumed, she scooted over toward me, laid her head against my chest, rested her right thumb-sucking hand on my protruding “shelf,” and kicked her right foot over my right leg, all the while cocking her head in such a way as to be able to still watch her program. For Essie it was probably little more than lay-my-head-on-something-warm-and-comfy-and-have-a-shelf-for-my-thumb time. For me it was a moment of soul feeding. I had my right hand curled around her little rump as my mouth brushed the top of her curls, kissing her crown every so often – just frequent enough to drink in her soft sweetness yet infrequent enough to prevent her from getting annoyed and pulling away.

It was a one of those moments of holding sand in your hand and trying to keep it from slipping through your fingers. Even now as I type these words, I can feel the imprint of her little form perched up next to mine. How can I freeze time? How can I keep her near me like that, forever filling up the Mommy bank? I guess the best I can do is write it down and remember it; I know these soul feasts – at least in this cherubic baby stage – are fast fleeting.