Year 1, Day 236

Hi little pumpkin,
Everytime I call you that, you smile.  My mother used to call me her little "pumpkin patch" when I was adorable to her, and she just wanted to eat me up . . . so, I know the feeling now.  I remember hearing those words from her, and that alone was an indication that everything was alright. I remember feeling safe for some reason. Safe and secure, like a warm blanket had been wrapped around me.

The other night, during a 12:30am wake up you had, I walked into your room and the night light had stopped working. I can only imagine that you were crying out of fright, because it was pitch dark in there, and you probably didn't know where you were.  As soon as you heard my voice, you stopped crying and grabbed onto me. You felt safe, thinking that I could save you from the darkness, or somehow the darkness didn't matter anymore.  I had taken you to the livingroom to rock you, and it too was black as night. But, I held you and you relaxed, with a head on my shoulder . . . drifting in and out of sleep.

It was a moment I knew that somehow this parenting thing does work - that by responding to your needs quickly, reassuring you often, and helping you along the way, you learned to trust me and have a belief that I can protect you. That is amazing to me. It shouldn't be, but this whole miracle of how life works never stops being miraculous.