as i rock my sweet littlest before nap time, i am breathless at the intensity of communion between two humans. he nuzzles as deep as he can - face to my neck, and his breath gives me chills. he wriggles and writhes to reach that perfect spot of comfort and familiarity. each of my precious ones is a nuzzler - always has been. (thank you papa, for this is my language of bonding...) but perhaps more than each of them, this one is particular about how he will be held. there's a ritual to be followed. sound machine on. favorite blanket to shoulder. neck nuzzling. prayer, then our family lullaby, and down. never one to be happy in a bed not his own, this one demands the routine, and we, each of "his people," happily oblige.
this day he can't settle. he actually takes my cheeks in his chubby hands, looks deep into my eyes as if to communicate his wishes, and moves my head into a different position; promptly nuzzles again and assumes that "heavier-than-i-really-am" relaxed state.
he is safe, and he is well aware that he is loved. he knows that i long to please him, and he is not afraid to ask for what he needs, even in the way of small comforts.
i want to nuzzle, Papa. i ache to bury my face in your neck and breathe on you and gaze into your eyes. remind me, as you did today, that while you are wild and wonderful, fearsome and all-powerful, you are my Papa who desires me to take your face and call to your heart, for you have called to mine since before i was conceived.