The baby and I play this game. I float a towel or light blanket up over her head and then at the last minute duck my head underneath so we are both under. She laughs and laughs to be so close to me and because we are covered, in our own little world.
I love it. She laughs, but stays still and wants me to do it over and over again. And under that blanket, I can see her eyes glisten. I can see her sweet smile. I can hear her laugh up close.
That game, where we are a breath away from each other feels much like a metaphor for our life during the semester- so close, so interdependant, just the two of us.
I'm bracing for the last semester of my husband's undergraduate career to begin, and for it to be her and I again. Just a breath away from one another, interdependent, just the two of us.
1 comment:
This is beautiful. What a special time for both of you. My son, at 2.5, still loves this, only he says, "Let's hide together, Mommy!"
Precious memories.
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