I find myself swaying – with and without baby Cito in my arms. It's marvelous to feel her close to me; sometimes, at night, we practically touch noses. She is my inch worm, and no matter where I place her on the bed, shortly thereafter she is at my side.
Citori is finding her smile. Sometimes I'm given a lop-sided goofy grin, other times it's full fledged – almost ear-to-ear. These moments enthrall and amaze me, captivate and make me, mirror her uninhibited glee back to her. Babies have this remarkable gift – people cannot help but to gravitate towards and be positively affected by them.
Citori's trusting innocence is something I wish to protect forever. She gazes into my eyes with absolute assurance that she is unconditionally loved and well taken care of. She looks at me with admiration I sometimes feel I don't deserve, and is ever forgiving of my endless mistakes. Babies are not capable of holding grudges – they're entirely in tune with the present.
Citori's latest great interest is light. Sensing it in any direction, Cito will try to turn full frontal towards it. Each morning she awakes, I usually find her rolled on her side, serenely looking out the window. This is one of many moments I wonder to myself, what is she seeing? What is she thinking? At 2 ½ months, I'm know my girl already has much to say.
And wow do we talk, exchanging babbling sounds of buzzing lips, clicking tongues, throaty growls and high-pitched squeals. While words impart structure – concrete ideas, Citori and I share a spectrum of emotion in our own little world. It's lovely. And this is Elise, signing out from Ninilchik, AK.
