This is the kind of thing that I think probably gets forgotten amid the hubbub of life through the years, so I want to mark it down while it's still fresh in my memory. (Also, in case anyone reading this is terrified of having children, perhaps this can make somewhat more tangible the small yet significant ways in which the little creatures bring magic into one's life.)
This afternoon, we had a quiet spell. Nick and my mom were napping (having both taken early shifts with Alex when he woke up brimming with energy at 7am, while I got to sleep in). I was in the family room with Alex. He was playing quietly with a variety of toys while I was reading a magazine. Every once in a while, he'd come over to the chair where I was sitting, and just start crawling up onto me. He would climb up the chair, and sort of clamber up to the back of the chair, not letting me get in his way in the slightest. Getting to the top, where he could reach over the back of the chair and sort of bat at the wall behind it, made him so happy. He'd smile and laugh (with his 8 teeth, he has a very cute smile right now) and bat at the wall a bit. Then he'd sort of clamber back down (he's learned to get himself down from chairs, beds, and sofas now--a very valuable skill) and go back to his books, drum, and blocks. He does this early in the morning, too, when I'm sitting in the glider in his room trying desperately to catch a few more winks before facing the fact that Alex is, in no way, going to go back to sleep. He'll climb up and try to grab the curtain behind the glider, with a huge, happy grin and some cute gurgles.
I mean, this is true minutiae, and that's perhaps why I wanted to write about it. I just loved getting climbed over by my little squirmy baby, and I love how such a simple feat causes him such joy.