Baby Therapy

You know I’ve spotted a baby when my smile gets bigger, my voice gets higher, and my feet walk quicker in that direction.

Babies bring a different mood into the room. Unless they’re being fussy, they just spread smiles everywhere they go. Innocence and joy, chubby cheeks and tiny fingernails, all presented in a soft little package of Baby. I volunteer in my church’s nursery, and it’s one of my favorite things.

So many different moments. When I hold him close and smooth his hair. When I whisk her up and blow into her stomach to make her laugh. When he pulls himself up holding onto a chair and looks at me triumphantly, head wobbling like it’s going to roll off.

Simple moments that make me do nutty things. Like stay frozen in uncomfortable positions that cause my arms to go numb because she is sleeping and I can’t bring myself to shift and wake her up. Or wave baby food around in circles over his head, making zooming noises. Or pop my head up from behind a counter to make her giggle so much she starts to hiccup.

Yup, there’s nothing like it. Baby therapy. And when I’m holding her in my arms and she curls her tiny fingers around mine and sighs, so content. I look down and sigh right back, perfectly satisfied to stay like this, looking at her forever.