I walk into Hayden's classroom and hear the normal sounds of babies laughing and one or two crying. I go into the kitchen area and gather the car seat and extra bottle from the fridge. I walk back in and one of Hayden's teachers gives me a look of "help." I know that look. The look that says, "This child is fussy and I don't know what to do to help him - nothing is working." She tells me as I am walking towards my baby that he wouldn't take his last bottle and has been very un-Hayden-like for the last half hour. So much so that they took his temperature (he didn't have one).
I walk over to the swing where my sweet boy is fussing. His face is like mine when I cry - splotchy and red. Big crocodile tears slide down his cheeks. As I lift him out of the swing, I speak soft words of comfort. The crying stops. He looks up at me with those big, blue eyes and then...that special just-for-momma grin appears. He laughs as I snuggle and blow raspberries on his neck. We walk to the crib area and sit in the rocking chair. He nurses and, as he eats, he occasionally pulls away to look up at me - milk running out of the side of his mouth because he is smiling.
Hayden just needed and wanted his momma. And this. It makes me really happy. He loves his momma and wants me to comfort him - that is part of what makes being a momma so great.