There's a moment in the middle of the night when I can hear the rustling in the crib next to me. I freeze and wait for the moment to pass or force me out of bed. I freeze because I think if she doesn't hear me move, she won't know I'm there and maybe she'll return to a peaceful slumber. That almost never works because she knows where ever I am her cry will summon my appearance. When she truly needs me (or simply wants me) I am there for her and I love those moments. It's those twilight times that I especially enjoy, even though I'm exhausted, it's when she's the most still and therefore the most cuddly. She's not squirming to get down and practice her new mobility skills or wanting to explore her environment. She's sleepy and wanting the comfort of my squishy lap to help get her back to sleep.
That's not to say that I don't love her waking moments- I do, they're just different. When she's awake and discovering something new (which is all the time) I love the amazed look on her face.
I love to see her crawling about and stop at a spot on the rug and touch it with her finger. It's usually not anything but a slight variation in the carpet itself, but she noticed the difference and has stopped to investigate.
She is becoming such an individual with very defined likes and dislikes. To think that just a year ago, I was only 6 months pregnant, barely showing and now I have this little person who only wants to eat these wagon wheel things that Gerber makes. It amazes me everyday.
She loves peek-a-boo also. She likes to take a blanket and pull it up over her face. I ask "where's A?" and she drops the blanket and I act all surprised- she gets the biggest kick out of that... I love it.... in the words of Bob- any better, I couldn't stand it... :)