I am in desperate need of a rocking chair. Preferably wooden, nice and solid construction (read: toddler unable to tip over or kill herself on it) with a high back. K woke up crying with a hurting tummy (as determined by the copious amounts of gas that soon followed - TMI? Sorry. Kids will do that to you.) and so I stood by the crib with her in my arms for a while, rocking and rubbing her back.
Me (realizing that several minutes of semi-resting a toddler on my protruding tummy did nothing to reduce my need to, uh, use the restroom): Are you ready to go back into your bed now?
K (gently running her hands through my hair, head on my shoulder, using small cute baby voice): no?
Me (taking advantage of a rare snuggly baby moment): Do you want to snuggle with Mommy for a little longer?
K (burrowing head deeper into my neck): uh-huh.
Me: Mommy loves you, K.
Me: Yes, baby.
K: *unintelligible baby talk which melts my heart*
This moment brought to you by... my very tired legs and even more ungainly midsection! And by... readers like you! Call the 1-800 number on your screen right now to donate towards a rocking chair so this station can continue to operate and provide you with the programs you love! Operators are standing by. (And they'd rather be rocking.)