the gaze

I remember so clearly an evening, when Friday was about 2 and I was newly pregnant with Sunday, catching myself gazing at my firstborn as she splashed in the bath, feeling my eyeballs almost bulge at the love radiating out of them. I was enraptured, entranced and utterly in love.
I glanced over at my husband perched on a bathroom stool, and saw that he was looking at her the same way, a look which carried so much emotion, a gaze laden with awe and delight.

I remember thinking to myself then, this is why we're having another one. Another child to share the enormity of this love.
It seemed like almost too much emotion to burden one child with. Strange word I know, but love can be a burden (the love these girls of mine have for me is very heavy sometimes!), a responsibility in a sense.
A responsibility possibly best shared.

But then a few evenings back I caught myself gazing at Sunday splashing in the bath, feeling my eyeballs almost bulge at the love and delight radiating out of them.
I glanced over at my husband, perched on the same bathroom stool, with the same sappy look all over his face.
The same gaze, the same love.

There's something about this age, from 1 -2, which is so enchanting. Watching them grow and learn, the little synapses firing, the learning all the time balanced with the unadulterated joy at the world around them.

I was wrong it seems, the gaze is not a weight for them to carry, but in fact the light under which they grow. This look is the one in which they see themselves reflected, the one which bounces back approval, encouragement, confidence.
They need this gaze, they thrive under it, and while the gaze on Friday the firstborn may have been uninterrupted and undiluted, Sunday the second has an even bigger advantage.

She has a third gaze, that of her big sister, another light shining down upon her.