It happened on Wednesday night when I opened the back door to get Robbie out of the car. As I peered into the car, Robbie turned from his car seat, looked at me, broke into a huge grin, and said, “Wuv you”. To me. Unprompted. For the first time in his life. And I think he really meant it.
Later that night, Robbie was in bed and I was rummaging around in our room getting ready for our vacation. I kept hearing, “Mama! Mama! Mama!” After the fourth or fifth time, I finally asked Robbie what he needed. The response? He giggle followed by, “Wuv you, Mama.” That was all it took; my heart melted for a second time.
I stopped rooting through my drawers and went in to see Robbie. We made googlie eyes at each other for a few minutes before I reached into his crib to give him a hug. Robbie held me tight and said “happy” a few times. I’m not sure that he’s ever hugged me back before. Well, other than when I’m torturing him by leaving him with a babysitter or, worse yet, his father.
I always know that I love my son, even on the days when it’s hard to like him. But it’s days like this that I know I live for him, for the moments when there is nowhere I’d rather be than listening to him laugh and play and even call my name a hundred times. Especially when it’s followed with a “wuv you.”