Eoin's dad and I love to dole out kisses, snuggles, tickles, raspberries, thigh squeezes, cheek chews, neck nuzzles, and bum pats, to our little baby. Eoin has always accepted this attention with a gracious and good-natured air of entitlement. For a long time, he himself didn't dole out much of anything, besides spit-up and dirty diapers of course. That is changing,though. Ashley and I are learning what it is to be on the receiving end of baby touches.

Eoin's touch can be so gentle. I could never explain the rapture I feel when he explores my necklace. He leans his forehead against mine, and I get to watch his downcast eyelashes as he engages himself at my neckline. They are the loveliest golden blond. I can feel, and see in my mind's eye, the soft, careful movements of his thumbs and fingers as they attempt to close on the flower pendant I wear. His hands are a delicate tickle on my collarbone. Oh, beautiful baby with your beautiful, gentle touches, I love you, I love you, I love you.

He is not always that gentle, I'll grant you. Take for example the other day: Eoin is content, playing on his belly on the living room rug. I lean down for a kiss. For a split second, I see his eyes light up ("Mommy!") with delight, before, quick as a cobra, he strikes. One hand lashes out for a fistful of hair, the other finds and clutches my upper lip, and all I can see is a yawning, pink mouth closing in on my face. I am momentarily incapacitated, kneeling on the floor with my face pinned to the rug: snagged by the hair, hooked by the lip, suctioned by the eye socket. Eoin can be surprisingly strong and dangerous sometimes.

There have been kicks to the adam's apple and scratches to the eyeball, too. But when I pick him up from a nap, his tiny arms will often squeeze around my neck in a baby version of a bear hug. I have felt, as I carried him against my chest in the snuggly, his little hand reach out and softly stroke my inner elbow. Some touches are more pleasant than others. Though, when I think about the necklace caress and the lip grip, I couldn't tell you which was done with more love. Or which one I loved more.