I would like to share something with you.
Just a small thing, but it's a fairly profound realization I just came to this morning.
I picked up Splat and put her in her crib for nap. The walk between her exersaucer and her crib was very slow and drawn out as I walked in an almost dance-like sway, and cuddled my tiny daughter in my arms. With my nose buried in the top of her head, and my hand holding hers, I inhaled her sweet sweet smell. Then it hit me.
Whenever I hold my babies I smell them, I inhale their scents and it gives me a silent moment of euphoria.
Why do people like to smell babies? What does someone mean when they say 'Mmm, smells like baby'? Why would the scent of throw-up and poop be so enticing to people?
Here is my answer.
I have a two year old who's hair smells like sweet strawberries, and yet my baby shampoo for Splat is near scentless. But the sweet smell that I'm inhaling, that I am enjoying, that I am trying to burn into my memory is of her.
When I triple the amount of time it takes to walk to her crib because I am smelling her, I am also holding her and feeling her breath and her heart beating against me. I am trying to memorize the size of her fingers and the power of her grip, the weight of her little dependant body in my arms, and the awe and comfort that she finds in my eyes.
Scent is one of the most powerful memory triggers, and I like to think that when Splat is two, ten, twenty-five years old, that I will one day hold another baby that will smell like throw-up and poop, and that baby may grip my finger, or be just as heavy, or look at me with the same innocent wonder, and I will be magically brought back to the time when I was holding my precious little girls. A time when I was the world to them.
This is what I mean when I say: "Mmm, smells like baby."
4 comments:
this is beautiful.
Thank you! I'm glad someone else enjoyed this.
I just connected from your post on Awesome.
I read the piece you wrote about single-parenthood, and can empathize with most of it.
I was 17,"one of the last of the virgins and first to get pregnant," was the joke. We were in love from ages 12 to 19, "together forever" dream.
Life happens...God and the angels know!
I'm now grannie Wendy, my eldest 32 with child nearly 5, my youngest 27 with child 6 months.
One is married, one is not.
Life happens...God and the angels know.
It takes a village to raise a child, without those in today's society,we must create positive circles of support,love & understanding.
I had a birth mom,guides, gurus and mentors...
The best lesson this:
"A mother's love knows no loving boundaries,"
a warm embrace, a smile upon your face and in your eyes goes along way.Baking and taking the time to make memories to last a lifetime.
I've just visited tonight & this to me is clear~
God knows and the angel's know...
your children know you love them...
Trust me, DO NOT waste another millisecond on those who cast stones, they fear your fortitude.
People told me how fast time slips away...
it does, so spend your time rocking, swaying, coddling, smelling and playing,make time matter!
@Anonymous: thank you for your visit! I am very glad you shared your story as well. It is very relieving to be able to connect with people who share my perspective and have been able to come out the other side as a beautiful and capable person.
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