Melt

I have this memory from high school, maybe college, of sitting in a Sunday church service and watching a family a few pews ahead of us. A mom, dad and two young boys, maybe 2 and 4. Those boys loved their mom. They stroked her hair, held her hand. And I sat there and thought, "That's what I want. Boys." Boys seemed to have such a tender love for their moms. I thought of the relationship between a daughter and mother as much more emotional - like a bomb wrapped in a pink ribbon.

Fast forward many years and I got my wish. Boys. Jake can be quite cuddly but he's a lot like a porcupine. They are darn cute but don't get too close unless you know exactly how to handle one. Sam still grabs for my hand when we walk together. I think he, much like my nephew John Wyatt, who at nearly 15 would still sit in his mom's lap if he wasn't taller and heavier than she is, will always be willing to cuddle.

And then there's Abby. She never passes up an opportunity to sit in your lap. If you are nearby she's stroking your face, patting your back or curling her arms and legs into yours. It's even better as she gets older and talks more. Now she can tell you how much she loves you.

Like last night. I was putting her to bed, lying next to her, patting her back, when she turned and put her little hands on my cheeks and said, "You're my sweet girl." I truly thought my heart would burst.