To Be Loved By a Toddler

Tonight I came home after a typically sleepy Monday, weary from battling the other commuters back and forth and still surprised that the weekend had ended. I was a little down and completely intended on staying that way. I even had a whole evening planned around it: a cup of tea, some repeats on TV, a little reading and a straight face all the way until my head hit the pillow.

But Veronika had her own ideas. She started by getting really excited when I got home, yelling "Mama" at me from the window (both parents are Mama now, I don't know why) and then lunging into my arms when I reached the top of the stairs. It's hard not to like that. Then before dinner she kept yelling "Na naaa," which is her call for us to sing Elmo's theme song. She kept a low profile through dinner but as soon as it was over, she got me to chase her around the house and jump out to surprise her, screaming and giggling every time she was caught. Then after proudly sitting on the potty (more on potty training), I changed her into pajamas and got her ready for bed. We read Goodnight Moon and she waited with breathless anticipation for me to turn each page and squirmed with glee when I whispered "hush!" (for the old lady that does so in the book, for non-scholars). After a cup of milk, she hugged me while I bounced her through a few burps and then laid her head on my shoulder and tucked her hands between our chests to prepare for sleep. I asked her for a kiss, she gladly obliged and then I put her down in her crib, where she snuggled up with Tigger and Piggy.

So here I am now, positively aglow from such a nice night with my daughter, even though I was trying really hard to frown my way through it. This is what the love of a toddler can do. It can also go the other way, but who remembers that?