Mama-Come-Lately

Sometimes when I’m driving with the baby in the back and he’s getting fussy, I’ll contort my right arm to reach back there (don’t judge — at stoplights!). I’ll waggle my fingers at the spot where I imagine the baby’s face to be, and he’ll grab my fingers. Then he shoves as much of my hand as he can into his mouth.

Just today, I recalled that my mom would reach her hand back from the front seat for one of us to hold, especially during long car trips. It might be the embellishment of time, but I remember my older brother and I fighting over who got to hold her hand. I remember feeling happy and safe whenever my hand was in hers.

And so the tradition continues.