My husband and I were able to sneak away for much needed R&R this past weekend.

Emma's grandmommy cared for her while we were gone. When we returned home late last night, we knew we couldn't wake Emma up to say hello. So, we just kissed her forehead, and squeezed her hand, and told her we loved her, waiting with anticipation for this morning when we could see her again.

We were only gone a short while, but it was the longest period we'd (together) ever been separate from Emma since she was born.

When Emma woke up this morning, her dada retrieved our babbling little one from her crib. My husband reports that Emma smiled and signed "milk" with vigor and a significant amount of repetition until he acknowledged her request and left her with me as he prepared her bottle.

While Emma waited, she tucked into bed with me. I said hello and hugged her tightly.

She waved at me.

When my husband returned with Emma's bottle and sat next to us on the bed and Emma realized that both my husband and I were there, together with her, she smiled,

then giggled,

then grabbed us both and pulled us near to her, holding our cheeks in her little hands,

and she laughed and laughed and laughed, closing her eyes, tugging on our hair, smiling her now six-tooth smile.

It was one of the simplest and best moments of my life.

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