And I love her too

As the sunlight crept in over our bed through the blinds, I felt her body begin to stir. She moved closer to me, delicately rubbing the button of my nightshirt between her finger and thumb. She moved her lovies to touch my face, and then hers. I opened my eyes to see hers looking back at me, waiting. Wide and hazel.

She pressed her nose against mine, took a deep breath, and in the few moments before letting it out with a sigh, she turned her eyes to the side a bit, and said, "I love you...Mommy." It was slow, like she was really concentrating on getting the words out, putting them together in just the right way. Like watching the sun rise over the open ocean, each second it carefully reaches a bit more toward the sky as we anticipate the beauty of what comes next. The most beautiful thing the world has to offer, sharing my pillow. Out came her breath, and then as she took another one, she repeated it, as if she knew that it would make me melt all over again and perhaps more to hear it a second time around.

I hugged her tight, not knowing how to physically reciprocate what she had just done for me as we started our day. In that instant, I was overwhelmed with love for this child. It was like the moment she was born. Or the moment she first smiled at me. This amazing little person I had lying next to me, sharing a moment, knowing neither one of us would rather be in any other place.
It's as if I can't make a moment go slowly enough to even pay attention any more, even as I cling to each one. She wants to be just like her big sister, and that means turning four before she's flown by two and hit up some three, and I just can't believe it, even as I watch.
Last week, she used the potty after telling me on her own that she needed to do so more than once. And we painted her toenails. And tomorrow I'll be taking her out for driving lessons.