It was when she was having her bottle, that moment I'm talking about. She was laying back in my arms, leaning into me, as I held her bottle for her. My pinkys stick out, some sort of genetic quirk. She has it, too. My pinky was out and she started playing with it. Used her index finger to trace around the tip a few times. Slid all of her fingers over it and squeezed. Then just rubbed her hand over mine and settled it there, so softly. We looked into each other's eyes as she finished the bottle. Her look said, 'No book tonight, k?' and I put her to bed.
It is those moments; the soft caresses we share, the gazes that seem packed with psychic messages, the nonsense language that will bring a smile that tells of a secret joke...it is these moments that define motherhood for me. That connection that feels as huge as the universe and as comfortable as my own skin.