When

He can almost transform the word ornery into an honorable trait, something better than a minor character flaw.  When he pulls the pillow from beneath her head, telling himself "no, no, no" in the process.  When he piles blankets on top of her, nearly smothering her, or when he kneels on her tummy, pressing all of his weight into her, in order to give her a kiss.  When he shares toys with her, flinging them at her face, or when he shoves the bottle up her nose trying to offer her a sip of his milk. 

When people love our children, we feel loved ourselves.  We see it in the sympathetic faces of strangers, we sense it in the strong hugs from family, we hear it in the soft words of friends.  But sometimes it feels like all the love in the world is concentrated right here, stacked up all around her on the couch, when earth feels not far outside heaven.
JEB