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Rated: E · Non-fiction · Family · #2192400
My rainbow after a storm.
His miniature hand wraps around my finger, leading me to where he desires. His warmth is filled with love and security even though I'm his protector. His hazel eyes glance up with eagerness, desperate for maternal attention. Innocence reflects through his eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. To him, everything is new and exciting. Nature is a playground designed simply for his adventures.
Since the moment he was born, nights have never been fuller. Curled up into my armpit, his baby soft skin is smooth as ever. Without ever using a drop of lotion, his surface is a silk shield, protecting his delicate inner beauty. His aromatic freshness fills the air, a lovely scent, indeed.
Just a child, yet wise beyond his toddler years. Once his vocabulary perfects, he'll be handing himself the world to be able to do anything he wishes.
But wait, a storm arises. Screams and shouts. The kicking and slapping have returned. Terrible twos. A tornado of frustration erupts. He's conflicted in his miniature skin. So little, yet so demanding. The daily power struggle between toddler and parent. All he knows is that he will win. He doesn't even care why or if it makes any sense, but he will win.
As the storm rolls over, the sun dares to peek through. His beautiful smile returns. Large enough to light up the world. My little rainbow after a storm.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2192400