Sharing is caring

New babies.  They smell so delicious.  Even better if you wash them with just water.  So they can smell like  themselves.  I walk around the house all day inhaling the sweet scent of my baby.  I am sure that she would be extremely embarrassed by all the attention if she was a teenager.

But thankfully (Amen!) she is still only 3 weeks old.  A lot of sweet sniffery still to be had.
I realise that I still have hours and hours with her.  Years even.  And, in the middle of the night, she is all mine.  But something happened the other day that surprised me about myself.

Friends came to visit to meet the little poo.  And for the entire visit, I could not put her down.  I refused to hand her over.  I just didn't want to share.  What if someone else had a moment with her that I should have had?

This reminds me of a time when I watched a kiddies ballet concert.  They were rolling balls to each other.  And then rolling the balls over their tummies, saying "mine, mine, mine".  Well, sometimes that is exactly how I feel.  Mine.  All mine.  I made her.  Carried her.  Gave birth.

Why wouldn't I want to share this beautiful thing I made?  Why wouldn't I want to brag.  Let other people inhale the wonder.

Cause, after all, isn't sharing supposed to be caring?