Love is grand. Love is small. Love is really the only thing at all.

          At 7 months, my chill, calm, happy baby has reached his cry-if-I-can’t-see-Mommy phase.  He’s still happy, as long as I’m in the same room.  If my life comprised only of eating, playing, cuddling, and napping, we’d be okay.  Don’t get me wrong, a significant portion of my life is taken up by those things, more than most I’m lucky to say, but there are other chores, the labor of life, that I must attend to.  
          And therein lies my baby’s beef with me.
          The beautiful thing is that this means he is really starting to relate with his fellow humans. If I’m not there, who is?  To him, he’s all alone in the world, usually imprisoned in his crib, and that makes him sad.  
          And rightfully so.  If I’m not there feeding him, changing him, bathing him, playing with him, singing to him, cuddling with him, or simply observing him, where could I be?  He has no concept of washing machines or vacuum cleaners.  It’ll be years before he can begin to grasp germ theory so there’s no way I can tell him these are other things I do because I love him.  He doesn’t understand that even if I’m not in his view, I’m still here loving him.  Not today at least.
          This morning, I hurried to sweep the floor, vacuum the rug, and throw another load in the wash, my heart breaking with his every wail, the stress of hearing my baby cry piling on.  He sounded so betrayed, alone, and desperate.  So I asked our Angels to go comfort him.  Go give him a hug while I can finish up here.
          To my surprise, I got a hug too!  I was gently reminded to call on the Angels for myself as well.  It’s hard to listen to my baby cry.  I love him so much that my every action, even the writing of this, is infused with a mother’s love.  And still I sometimes fear I fall short.  The hug of compassionate self-love I received from my Angels reminded me that I never fall short.  
          Neither do you.  Angels aren’t around us only to move mountains.  Remember, you can call on them just for a comforting embrace or a supportive pat on the back.  Believe me, even this simple act does wonders.  
          When I came back to the room, the crying stopped instantly.  My baby flashed me a big smile.  Isn’t it wonderful how babies simply cannot hold grudges?  Then we went into the living room and had a dance party, the freshly vacuumed carpet beneath our bare feet.