Love Stinks

For Valentine's Day, I like to write Love Letters to my kids. I won't share them here. Very sappy and sentimental--they might make you blush. But I will share a part of one here. And it won't make you blush. It might make you gag. You have been warned.

Here is a portion of Peter's February 14, 2010 love note from me, his momma:

"Sweet boy, I love it when you crawl into our bed in the early morning and stroke my face with your little hands. It makes me feel beautiful."

During naptime the very same day, I was snuggled up next to my boy. Savoring the moment. Enjoying how perfectly his head fits into that space under my chin. When he reached up to caress my face, I suddenly remembered something else he does that needs to be memorialized here. Those very hands that I love have discovered certain places, smelly places. Places that are the exact size of three-year-old fingers. And those stinky fingers where connected to the little hands that were sweetly stroking my face.

Note to Self: More thorough supervision required for wipe, whirl and wash stage after toilet routines for said three-year-old.