Willow isn't a lovey-dovey, cuddly girl.
I'm not saying she isn't an angel. She is. But she doesn't like to snuggle up with you, and she doesn't share many kisses or hugs with you (that makes the hugs and kisses you can steal that much more valuable). Note: None of this applies to Pop (Cherish's father); Willow will cuddle up and smooch and hug on this guy all the live-long day!
I don't want you to get the wrong idea, though. Even though Willow doesn't want to snuggle much, that does not mean she doesn't want to be around Cherish or me. Quite the contrary, Willow wants to be with us, to shadow us, nearly every minute of the day. She wants to be with us. To play with us. To watch us. To eat what we eat. To do what we do. To help us. TO SUPERVISE US.
But Willow, generally, does not want to hold us (or vice versa).
All of this sets up a surprising moment I had with her on Monday.
I was picking up Willow at the YMCA's babysitting service after my workout and spotted her playing with several children of varying ages across the room. I looked down to sign out Willow when I heard a child screaming, "Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da!" I ignored the cries because surely, I thought, another kid was happy to see a daddy that had just entered the room behind me (Willow NEVER acts that way about me, you see).
But the yelping got louder until it was at my knees.
I looked down, and Willow was hopping with excitement, ready to jump into my arms, to be held by me.
My heart melted.
My little girl wanted to cuddle, with me.
I'm not saying she isn't an angel. She is. But she doesn't like to snuggle up with you, and she doesn't share many kisses or hugs with you (that makes the hugs and kisses you can steal that much more valuable). Note: None of this applies to Pop (Cherish's father); Willow will cuddle up and smooch and hug on this guy all the live-long day!
I don't want you to get the wrong idea, though. Even though Willow doesn't want to snuggle much, that does not mean she doesn't want to be around Cherish or me. Quite the contrary, Willow wants to be with us, to shadow us, nearly every minute of the day. She wants to be with us. To play with us. To watch us. To eat what we eat. To do what we do. To help us. TO SUPERVISE US.
But Willow, generally, does not want to hold us (or vice versa).
All of this sets up a surprising moment I had with her on Monday.
I was picking up Willow at the YMCA's babysitting service after my workout and spotted her playing with several children of varying ages across the room. I looked down to sign out Willow when I heard a child screaming, "Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da!" I ignored the cries because surely, I thought, another kid was happy to see a daddy that had just entered the room behind me (Willow NEVER acts that way about me, you see).
But the yelping got louder until it was at my knees.
I looked down, and Willow was hopping with excitement, ready to jump into my arms, to be held by me.
My heart melted.
My little girl wanted to cuddle, with me.
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