My Little Girl

I'm in the living room when I hear her start to cry a little.  I look at the clock.  An hour.  Not her best, but certainly not her worst.  I close up whatever it is that I've been working on and tread softly by the door to her room.  Maybe she'll fall back to sleep.  Still crying.  Okay, I guess it's an hour long nap this time.  I open up the door and say what I say every time I wake her up from her nap, "Is there a pretty girl in here?"  The crying stops.  I walk over until I can see her big toothless grin, which breaks into a squeal when she sees me.  Her arms flap, her legs kick, her blue eyes shine, and I can't help but get butterflies and forget about how disappointed I was that her nap was only an hour.  It's probably just biology, but it's amazing how a little smile, a little giggle, a little coo or squeal can make you forget about the messy diapers, the late nights, and the inexplicable screams.  I'd like to thank God for my little one, my little girl.