Chubby, soft, cuddly baby cheeks. I just love ‘em. The Munchkin has pair just perfect for squishing and kissing. I took the opportunity to do just that this evening.
Here is my MOMent:
Freshly clean from her bath, The Munchkin is squirming on the changing table while I maneuver her limbs in an attempt to finish drying her, slather her bum with diaper cream, put on a fresh diaper and dress her in her pajamas for bed.
Until recently I have been able to successfully distract her with a toy or book while I change her diaper or dress her. Now, those items end up thrown to the floor during The Munchkin’s protest bucks. She insists on trying to make a naked escape at every opportunity and the books and toys seem to be no match for the appeal of crawling around with a bare bottom.
Not having much luck taming the kicking legs, flailing arms and twisting torso of my daughter this evening, I ditch the toy efforts opt for a good old-fashioned talking distraction.
As I wrestle her into her diaper and attempt the task of weaving her arms into the sleeves of her pajamas, I begin saying words and sounds that The Munchkin enjoys repeating lately.
One, which she just learned today, is the word bubble.
“Bub-ble,” I say to her as her second arm winds its way through the sleeve.
She claps her hands (apparently to congratulate me for saying the word) and then proceeds to repeat it. Only the b’s come out as d’s. So, for emphasis I say, “Ba-Ba-Bubble.”
It’s her turn to pause now.
She studies me while she processes what I’m trying to tell her. Her lips purse, and just when I think she’s about to repeat me, her cheeks puff with air. She looks at me with a sideways glance, and attempts to hold back a smirk.
Her inflated cheeks are so round, she looks like a puffer fish and I can’t help but laugh.
In response, The Munchkin ‘s smirk begins to spread into a smile, but it turns out that smiling makes it difficult to keep air pouched in her cheeks. It starts to escape through her pursed lips and squeaks on its way out.
The noise is hilarious to her.
Her pudgy cheeks deflate and invert with dimples as a five-toothed grin takes over and belly laughter erupts.
Her grin is so big that her pudgy little cheeks seem to be pushing her eyes into smiling squints as she laughs at the noise she has just made.
I watch my little girl and her dimpled cheeks laughing on the changing table, halfway into her pajamas.
I realize then that it’s my duty as a mother to squeeze and kiss those dimpled cheeks, no matter how much she’s squirming to escape the donning of the post-bath pajamas.
Like any responsible adult, I live up to the task. She even stops squirming enough to let me.
Those cheeks. They’re one of the greatest things in the world.
Even when they’re covered in Cheerios and graham cracker crumbs. Even when they’re streaked with tears. Especially when they’re dimpled with a five-toothed grin on a baby who stops squirming just long enough to let her mother enjoy them.
That was my MOMent today. What was yours?
