If diamonds are a girl's best friend...

Marilyn Monroe, in all her infamous tumult and splendor, spoke for millions with her 'diamonds are a girl's best friend.' And granted, "getting" my man and my rock were two of life's blessed moments. But I will never look at my diamond the same...

This evening, late afternoon actually, with NPR's "All Thing's Considered" playing in the background as Little Bits and I lay on my bed, I sang to him and tried to calm him and help him recover from a nine-hour travel day on Wednesday (his nap schedule today played out in limited shut-eye of 25 minute increments -- here and there --spread through out the day, on and off, trying to get adjusted to 'mountain time'). But there we lay, and I sang...He smiled, open mouthed like Charlie Brown -- I love how his bottom lip is the one that moves when he's really delighted about something.

His scent was delicious -- a mix of clean baby, fresh from the Bathtub greased down in Burt's Bee's Baby Lotion and his heavenly baby's breath (which today smelled like warm vanilla creamsicle .)

He grabbed my left hand, found my fingers and began to play with my engagement ring -- working on his pincher mobility, trying to handle the precious stone in his chubby little fingers. I stopped singing and just watched him fixate on the object. And as he fixated and grasped, his eyes grew heavy, and his breath slowed; and I knew that next to the moment his father gave me that significant piece of jewelry, I'd never experience a more intimate moment with both of my precious jewels.