There is something so entirely delicious about babies. This morning, I just wanted to hold Claire tightly and smell her babyness. One day, I will bottle that smell and make millions. She's starting to lose that smell, and I find that loss traumatizing. She's it. She's my baby. Once that smell leaves, I will be left with no replacement baby-scent. It's so sad. That sweet, delicious smell will be replaced with her "stinky-toddler aroma" and then go straight to "sweaty kid." It's inevitable.
Her chubby little feet, her dimpled hands, those pudgy cheeks--she's edible. Completely edible. I want to take a big bite outta her--my little sweet potato.
Except for last night. Last night, she had poop on her hand. That was gross. And I certainly didn't want to bite her hand then.