A tale of 2 hugs

When I came home from work the other day, Tony met me in the living room and greeted me with a hug. We stood there hugging for a moment, until we both felt tiny hands grasping our legs. We looked down, and there stood Ari, one hand on my leg and one on Tony's, looking up at us and making this slightly irritated "eh eh eh" sound. Laughing, I scooped her up. "What--you feel left out?" I teased. I held her close, and Tony wrapped his arms around both of us. She laid her head on my shoulder first, then on Tony's... and then sat up and just smiled coyly at us, as though she knew how cute she was being.

. . . . .

Tonight, Ari and I made a quick trip to Target to pick up some necessities, and when we returned home, I went to her door to get her out of the car. She grinned at me and kicked her legs energetically--obviously, the 3-hour nap she had this afternoon had left her in a fantastic mood. I smiled back at her, talking goofy-Mommy-talk to her while I unbuckled her.

As I lifted her out of the car and onto my hip, she hugged me. And I'm not saying, "Oh, she laid her head on my shoulder"--I'm saying that she laid her head on my shoulder, grabbed my arms with her tiny hands, and squeezed (yes, squeezed) me, clinging to me for a few moments as though I was the dearest thing in the world to her. I just stood there, hugging her back, speechless.

When she lifted her head, I found my voice and started babbling about what a sweet girl she was. She responded with another hug--a bit shorter, but just as genuine.

Though she's hugged me before, it's usually with prompting, and for a reason, such as right before she goes to bed for the night. And not that's there anything wrong with those kinds of hugs. But this was the first time she's hugged me--truly hugged me--just because.

It was one of those precious mother-daughter moments that I will tuck away inside my heart, and try to remember forever. (And of course, blogging about it doesn't hurt either.)