It's the Smell, Mr Anderson

The other night Natalia woke up with foot pain. She does this a lot, and it makes sense that your bones would hurt when you literally grow two inches a year. Also, I just bought her new shoes a week ago and I have a "fish bowl theory" about this: just like if you put a gold fish in a bigger bowl, he will get bigger; so do Natalia's feet when I buy her bigger shoes. So, I gave her some Motrin and layed down with her in her bed to massage her feet so she could go back to sleep. I don't know why, but she is a sweaty sleeper once she falls into that wonderfully deep sleep that can withstand all sorts of noise. This inculdes the "mommy finishing the dinner dishes in my best Christina Aguilera impersonation" kind of noise. You just can't sing that stuff softly - you gotta belt it out. Any-who, back to the point. When she sweats, she smells. It is that sweet smell that is so very Natalia. I can't tell you what it smells like other than it smells like her. I love it.

Ever since she was four months old, I have been pulling 12 hour shifts as a nurse. Jeremy's parents are unreal and have lovingly, willingly, and indulgently taken care of Natalia while he and I worked so we could have family time on our days off. I have learned to be okay with not seeing her for 3 days out of the week, but oh how I miss her when she is gone. I often go into her room, find her security "pinky" blanket and bury my face in it because it smells like her. My cup runneth over.

Now as wonderful as that sounds, she is seven and doesn't always smell like my sweet little girl. Sometimes she smells downright funky. That's easy enough to fix and she transforms again into my non-funky child with a hint of Pantene. Shower hour is always before bed, so I get to snuggle with her for 20 minutes and just enjoy holding her, talking to her, and trying to memorize the way she smells.

If I had to give up any of my senses it would be taste. Maybe that would cure my addiction to cinnamon/sugar pie crust (just the crust) and nachos. The rest I need in order to imprint Natalia on my heart. My sight to watch her grow and change; my touch to hug and hold her; my ears to hear her songs and all the funny, inspiring, and magical things she says; and my sense of smell. There are no words to describe it, but it is something very tangible to me, with my favorite being the "sweet with a touch of Pantene".