She reaches for me.

When she’s happy and giggling with delight.
When she’s crying after a bump or a fall.
When she’s feeling left out and wants my attention.

She reaches for me.

When she’s overtired and exhausted from a really long day.
When she’s under the weather and in need of extra snuggles.
When she’s breaking in yet another tooth.

She reaches for me.

When she’s “all done” with dinner or bath time.
When she’s frustrated or upset that something didn’t go her way.
When she can’t fall asleep or wakes up in the early hours of the morning.

She reaches for me.

No matter the event. No matter the circumstance. No matter the time of day and no matter who else is around.

I’m always the one she reaches for.

And sometimes it’s downright exhausting being needed like this.
Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t always the person she ran to.

But I know the day is coming where I won’t be.
And I will ache to be her everything again.

So I’m teaching myself to slow down. To breathe her in. To thank God for the bond that only a mother and her baby can share.

Because all too soon, she’ll be all grown up…
And I won’t be the one she’s reaching for anymore.

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