Banana boobs

Sometimes Peeper wakes from a nap completely sweet: You can hear her babbling to herself or spot her playing with her toes when you peek at the monitor. Other times she gets up on the wrong side of the crib. She fusses and clings like a monkey.

I was carrying her around the apartment on one hip when she was like this a few days ago. She was holding her stuffed bunny and lay her head on my shoulder.

Ten Thousand Hour Mama

I made her a snack, and we traded bites of toast and banana. She was starting to perk up a bit but still was a sweet bundle of snuggles. The more she runs around, the fewer chances I get for quiet cuddles, so I relished the moment.

Then Peeper dropped her half-chewed banana down my shirt.

Precious cuddles followed by mooshed banana-y boobs—that, in a nutshell, is motherhood.

Flower, pretty flower

Ten Thousand Hour MamaFlowers are probably in Peeper’s top ten favorite things, ranking below milk and baths but above pizza. Whenever she sees flowers, she makes a sniffing noise and squirms to get closer.

They feature in her play, too. When we have bouquets in the house, I periodically give her a flower or two.

She carries them around and offers them to everyone, making a sniff, sniff noise.

Inevitably, though, she finishes by pulling off all the petals. I imagine her reciting, “She loves me, she loves me not” as she plucks them.

Peeper, the answer is yes, no matter whom you’re picking petals for. How could anyone fail to love you?

Ten Thousand Hour Mama