There's something about babies that gives you a warm fuzzy feeling inside. I don't want one (yet), but honestly, I am completely helpless in the face of a child who stands there wobbling on his feet and raises his arms towards me with this, "pick me up please" look on his face.
I met my nephew for the first time today - at 13 months (my family dynamics is quite complicated). From the time he latched onto me, he stole my heart...and when he gripped my fingers ardently, trying to pull me into the car with him when it was time to leave, and I had to untangle myself and step away, I felt quite sad.
By the time I see him again, he will have forgotten how much he liked me, or probably even what I look like.
They say, blood is thicker than water. I'm not so sure when it comes to my family. We're familiar strangers, walking on borders where there should be none.
He blew me a kiss from his tiny palm, waiting expectantly for my gasp of surprise and dramatic excitement. It was a party-trick to him...to me, it was a little treasure. I caught it, and tucked it away safe - something I'll remember, even when he can't remember who I am.
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