[Note: you might want to grab a glass of wine to go along with all the cheese in this post. My apologies.]
I have a lot of faults. A lot.
One of the major ones is that I am not, absolutely positively, NOT a morning person. Yes, yes I know that pretty much everyone has declared that at one time or another, but I can guarantee that your distaste of getting out of bed is absolutely nothing to my pure loathing of it. To me, waking up is the worst. thing. ever. And I hate to admit it, but I am a mean, grumbly, selfish person when I first get up. As I’ve matured [ha!], it’s gotten a *little* better than in high school and college, but not much. Thankfully, I have an extremely patient husband and a baby who lets me sleep in a little and be kinda hazy while we interact in the morning.
Speaking of Philomena, she is completely the opposite. She wakes up in the morning and from naps a giggling, smiling delight. Very very rarely does she emerge from slumber crying. Usually her attitude is akin to something like this (bedhead and all):
Another one of my tragic downfalls is that I am very awkward with friendly physical affection. In other words, I am not a “hug-y” person. At all. It’s not as if I am an emotional robot [quite the contrary], but I have never been one of those people to just go up to a friend and give a hug or an arm around the shoulder or a pat on the back or that weird arm-rub thing some people have mastered. More than one person has informed me that I am a “bad” hugger. It’s pretty pathetic not to have mastered a basic form of human interaction.
Philomena, on the the other hand, is sooooo incredibly affectionate. I am sure this is part of her developmental phase, but over the past few months, it has switched from us giving HER affection to her giving it to US. All of the cuddling, pats on the back, and hugs that she initiates have been one of the most beautiful stages of motherhood thus far.
The other day when I heard Mena awake from her nap, and I went upstairs to check on her, she greeted me with the most ridiculous full-face smile she could muster, accompanied by squeals of excitement. As soon as I picked her up, she immediately held me tightly, patted my shoulder, and nuzzled her head into me. She stayed this way for a solid 5 or more minutes. Every once in a while, she would lift her head to gaze at me and give me a big grin. Not going to lie, this melted my heart and brought a couple tears to my eyes.
As I was holding her (or rather she was holding me), I realized how grateful I was that she hasn’t yet modeled some of my flaws. And maybe, just maybe, she won’t. Perhaps she won’t inherit my incessant lateness, or my chronic procrastination, or my incomprehensively-fast talking, or my uncanny habit of filling up on chips and salsa before the meal comes each and every time I go to a Mexican restaurant.
However, if she does end up acquiring some of these downfalls, I pray she might have a little baby someday to teach her just how great waking up and hugs truly can be.