Rock your baby

Libby is almost sixteen months, and continues to surprise us and make us laugh every day. She adds new words to her vocabulary every day, like boat, go go, beep beep, nigh-nigh, rock-rock, car, mine, and poop! She seems to understand most of what we say. She'll follow directions, like go throw that in the trash, get your shoes, go upstairs for jammies, find your cup, go to your seat. You can pretty much get her to go anywhere with the promise of "eat!" When she wakes up she just wants to play in her crib, so to get her out, I tell her it's time to eat! She comes to the edge with her arms up. When we sing 'Wheels on the Bus' she tries to do the "round and round" motions with her hands, and she loves to dance and clap to any music she hears. Tonight I rocked her to sleep and she babbled and babbled, and in between all the babbling she would take a deep breath, swallow and keep babbling. It was like she was telling me about her day. She would even say no no sometimes, then at some points she would giggle, and look at me like I was supposed to giggle, too. And I did! And if I tried to rest my head on the back of the chair, she would reach up with her chubby hand and turn my chin back towards her face. She's so big she doesn't really fit in my lap anymore, but we rock with her legs dangling over the chair and our faces close. The music plays, she's heavy and usually sweaty around her hairline, and I thank God for my chubby healthy pink red-headed baby. When we first sit down, I am thinking of all the things I need to do in the house, but after a few minutes of rocking I am thinking of nothing but my baby girl. The rocking is as much for me as it is for her. I was given this piece of advice from a mother of three when I was pregnant with my first child: life is too short not to rock your babies. And so I rock . . . and am rewarded every night. And it is the number one piece of advice I hope to pass on to my girls.