Cuddle Time

Is there anything better than cuddling with a 2 1/2 year old?

Perhaps, but as I recline on the purple overstuffed chair in my daughters' room, holding Jaeda in her footed "jammies", I can't think of anything that would trump this feeling. Tristyn, from her crib checks in occasionally; "Mama....?" "I'm still here" I reply soothingly, and she is temporarily appeased, until another 30 seconds has passed and she calls out again.

The girls have both brushed their teeth, first with "pongebob" toothpaste, then demanding a refresher of the "striped" toothpaste. They assist me in dressing them by holding up their too-long limbs and pressing determinedly into the anti-skid soles. We three settle in the overstuffed chair - Jaeda making room for me next to her and Tristyn climbing up onto my lap - for three books, which they have already selected and brought clumsily to our designated reading spot.

This leisurely evening ritual is in such contrast to two years ago, when I would begrudgingly return again and again to their bedroom to nurse, sing and cradle one or the other until seeking out my escape to my own bed, only to return at the sound of crying again. But that is another story entirely, and feels light years behind me; a notion that does not escape me even for a day, and especially in moments such as these that must be the reason for propagation of the human race.

What will I do when I no longer have two toddlers to cuddle with?