When I come home from an evening out, my girl holds my face in her warm little hands and says, "I'm happy to see you, mama." My two-year-old wiggle puppy says, "I love you, mama," and then, "I'm proud of you, mama." Her words are half purr, half coo. I reply in kind to each of her pronouncements, with a squeeze for emphasis, which makes my girl giggle and squeal with delight.
These little love fests are becoming more and more frequent lately. I'm basking in them.
And what cheers me most is realizing that my daughter is reflecting what I give her right back at me. She gets these phrases from me, and she might not even know what "I'm proud of you" means but she absorbs the feeling in the words and returns it to me a thousandfold.
How extraordinary to see myself reflected in a mirror like this. It makes me proud of my girl and even a little proud of me, too. Maybe I'm not half bad at this motherhood thing?
I might have another story to tell when Amelie hits her teen years. But for now, I'll gladly take what I have. And bask in it.