Auntie-ish

I have a little niece--almost eighteen months old--and she is just the cutest.

She makes cheesy grins and has a scant inch of wispy blonde hair, and she dances and gives kisses and tries to sing.

My little niece lives across the country from the rest of my family, and I had to say goodbye to her yesterday. It will be months before I get to see her again.

I held her as much as I could and asked for as many kisses as she could spare. As I stood in the entry way of my home, I held her toward me and looked into her face. She looked back and then put her little hand--thin-fingered and baby-wrinkled--to my cheek. Just held it there, for longer than the typical toddler moment. It was so, so sweet.

Being an aunt is a great job. It has the essence of being not so critical, but still important, and then just plain fun. I get to help when she goes floppy and cries her crocodile tears; I get to pull the bib over her head and hear her satisfied "mm"'s; I get to hold her when she pops her thumb in her mouth and rubs my hair between her fingers. Months and months won't change those things.

It is lovely. The toddler moments are lovely.

Because she is the toddler moments, and she is so lovely.