Buttercups, kisses, and morning light

She calls me for every night, rousing me from sleep. More often than not, I wake up in her toddler bed with my legs folded beneath me, yearning for a good stretch. "It's day time, Mama. It's not night time anymore. Now we get out of bed."

So we do. And trudge back over to my room so she can watch a bit of TV while I snooze for just a little bit longer. I was up last night writing far too long and am not awake enough to do more than grab the remote and flip to Nick. Jr.

She settles in next to me and patiently waits for me to I open my eyes again.  I stretch and kiss her cheek. ready to get started with our day. She grimaces and wipes my kiss from her face.

"Are you rubbing it in?" I ask, referring to our little family thing about rubbing in the kisses.

"No," she says. "I'm wiping it off."

My face falls. I don't want her to outgrow Mama's love.

She sees me and smiles cautiously.

"I made a funny, mama." she says, raising her eyebrows in an attempt to show me she is sincere."I'm rubbing it in. All your besos. I rub them right in."

She places her hand her face and moves her hand in a circular motion, never taking her eyes off of mine as she rubs Mama's kiss into her skin as if to say, "See, Mama? I'm still your baby girl."

And my day has officially begun.