Wherein I get a little mushy.
I am finding that love comes in many shapes. The love of parent and child – regardless of age. I see the relationship between my children and myself, or my husband growing and changing, day by day. As they develop their personalities, so does our love develop.
I see a new side to my love for my husband – as our partnership deepens.
I watch my bond with my family – my parents, my brother – as it takes on a life beyond where we started. I know that my love for my nieces grows each day too.
But it's not all sweetheart love – it's hard. Damn hard to love a headstrong toddler sometimes – she is so stubborn that it's hard to get along, even in the love. It's one thing to love someone, its quite another to love them even when they are breaking the house rules for the dozenth time that morning. When they are screaming holy terror at you for taking away a cherished reward. But love is still there.
When you pull the baby off the windowsill time and time again. “No, no, Benjamin! Not safe for babies.” When you protect them, love is there.
It's there in the small hours of the night, when the child is crying, scared in the dark, and curls her warm form into your side. As the fears subside and sleep returns. Love is there.
When the baby runs across the room and flings his robust form into your arms, rubbing snot and slobber into your just-pulled-from-the laundry clean shirt. Love is there.
And love is in the partnership of one personality taking time away, even for the 30 minutes it took me to write this, so the other partner can take time later. Give and take – Love is there.