Some days are good nap days, where most of the time she spends in the crib is actually spent napping instead of crying, and you can’t help but have a happy afternoon after she gives you a grin while you lean over her crib.
Some days she’d rather play with your face than any loud, colorful, flashing toy you can find in her toy basket because, let’s face it, your nose isn’t a button nose like hers anymore. And you like the way her eyebrows raise whenever you open your mouth as wide as you can.
Some days you’re able to make it to lunch without having to change your shirt because you, with your mom-like reflexes, were able to dodge her spit up like a champ. Until that last one right around lunch time, of course.
Some days are “almost milestone” days, when you can see that she’s almost able to roll over on her own as she plays with her feet, and you start to realize that these “almost” days–these days before her next big milestone and her next big step towards independence–make every ordinary moment feel so very important.
Some days she’ll give you her gummy smile every time she catches your eye, and you’ll forget about switching the laundry or finishing the dishes because the most important spot for you is right here on the floor next to her. And as her mom, of course you document the occasion.
Some day, when she’s older and driving and probably embarrassed by me, I’ll miss these days with her on the nursery room floor, surrounded by stuffed animals and burp cloths with our shirts full of spit up. But I’ll bet there’ll be good things about that “some day” too.