It's official Kissing Day Blogfest. I was actually not aware of this until I opened Google Reader this morning, and it was like a Harlequin novel had exploded in there (in a good way).
Confession: I am horrible at writing kissing scenes. My NaNo kissing scenes were the equivalent of a chin bump and too much tongue. I haven't worked up the nerve to attack the kiss in my WIP.
So here's a bit of off-the-top-of-my-head memoir (I'm feeling sentimental):
I'm so thankful that I didn't listen to the attachment parenting women who said, "Don't let the nurses wipe off the goop before they hand him to you! The goop helps him bond to you." Of course, at the time, all I could think was, "Is the shaking normal? They didn't mention the shaking in the prepared childbirth course. Or did they?"
And then, there he was.
At which point, all I could focus on was, "Must. Not. Drop. Baby." Followed quickly by, "So thankful I let them wipe him off."
The first thing that struck me about him was the perfection of his ears. Like little squished and shriveled apricots, but perfect, with tiny tufts of fuzz on the top. Everything was tiny.
Then, I kissed him on the top of that tiny head. On the spot I recognized immediately as the one I'd been waiting my whole life to kiss. Hoping for. Praying for. The spot that God designed for my smooch.
And I realized for the first time I was truly a Mom. Because I would have kissed it even if he was goopy.