As perfect as it gets

I had such a delightfully wonderful mammy experience yesterday. Now I should start this by saying the baby who never sleeps could also be described as the baby who never cuddles.
She is the polar opposite to her brother who always has been the snuggliest child in the world. She, from a very, very age took to pushing her arms away when I tried to cuddle her and wriggling out of my grasp. She certainly did not like to be rocked to sleep - preferring (a bit like her mammy) to have her own space to fall asleep. I could lie beside her, sure - but cuddle her? Not a chance.
She typically goes to sleep by rolling onto her side and drifting off in a very Miss Independent stylee.
Yesterday however we were in my mums and were playing on the floor (very exciting games of ‘Where did granny go?’ and bang the blocks together and laugh uproariously).
Then she started to get whingy in a way that only babies can so I lifted her, expecting her to wriggle away. Instead she cuddled in and closed her eyes so slowly while stroking my face. I stroked hers in return and she fell asleep. So I sat there, for half an hour, this sleeping baby in my arms - her cheeks rosy red from my body heat and also from teething and I kissed her head more times than should be allowed and relished just being a mammy.

Sometimes, it’s just perfect. Without any effort at all.