My daughter is in such a sweet and funny stage right now. She’s starting to show her personality in the most surprising ways. Every day feels like a new discovery with her, and even in the little things, I see so much depth in her feelings and reactions. One of her current phases is this thing she does when she’s super excited or feeling gigil—she bites. It’s not aggressive or mean, it’s more like her feelings are so big, they overflow into little love bites. Still, when it happens, it catches me off guard.
Just the other day, while we were playing, she bit my arm—not hard enough to hurt badly or leave a mark, but enough that I had to pause. I looked at her and said gently, “Awa… you bit me, Mommy is hurt.” The moment those words left my mouth, her whole face changed. Her smile dropped into concern, and without missing a beat, she leaned over and kissed the spot on my arm where she had bitten me. Then she looked up at me with her wide eyes and asked, “Better, Mommy?”
I could barely speak. I smiled and said, “Yes, my baby. Thank you.” But she wasn’t finished. She kissed the same spot again, as if sealing her apology with love. Then, in the sweetest way possible, she climbed up and gave me several kisses on my cheek—soft, small ones, one after another. Each kiss was followed by her asking again, “Feeling better, Mommy?” And each time, I told her yes. But what I didn’t say out loud was how proud I felt. That little moment left such a deep impression on me.
Inside, I was overwhelmed. Not just by the sweetness of the gesture, but by the emotional understanding she showed at such a young age. She’s still learning words, still figuring out the world, but somehow, she already understands what it means to hurt someone, how to say sorry without even using the word, and how to comfort in a way that feels sincere and loving. That’s something many adults still struggle with.
It reminded me of a conversation we had with her caregiver at daycare not too long ago. We were talking about how she’s adjusting, how she plays with the other kids, and just overall checking in. And the caregiver shared something that I still think about often. She said my daughter is very empathetic. That when another toddler falls or gets hurt and starts crying, my daughter will stop what she’s doing—no matter how fun or interesting—and go to that child. She’ll gently pat their back or softly stroke their hair. She just wants them to feel better. The caregiver said she doesn’t need to be told or prompted. She just does it naturally.
Hearing that made my heart swell. I tried not to get emotional in front of the caregiver, but inside I was holding back tears. It’s a beautiful thing to hear someone else describe your child in that way. It’s one thing to witness kindness at home, where it’s safe and familiar. But to know that she carries that same gentleness into the world, even as a toddler—it’s something else entirely.
That moment at home when she kissed my arm, followed by those cheek kisses, replayed in my head over and over. It wasn’t just an isolated action. It was part of a bigger picture I’m seeing more clearly each day. She is learning how to connect, how to be kind, how to take responsibility for her actions, and how to make people feel better. And she’s doing it not because I told her to, but because she feels it deeply.
It’s funny how these little episodes stay with us. She probably doesn’t even remember that moment anymore. But I do. I’ll carry it with me for a long time. It made me pause and reflect on how fast she’s growing, not just physically, but emotionally. And how as a parent, I often worry about teaching her the right things, guiding her to be good, kind, thoughtful. But sometimes, I realize she already is all of that—and I just get to witness it.
Of course, we still have our everyday toddler moments. She gets frustrated when she can’t open something or when we don’t understand what she wants right away. She has her tantrums and her loud, loud opinions. But even in those messy moments, there’s always a spark of empathy under the surface. If I look sad, she notices. If I pretend to cry, even for play, she rushes over with hugs. If someone on TV is hurt or crying, she points it out with concern in her eyes.
It’s such a beautiful reminder of how children are born with so much heart. Sometimes we think we’re the ones shaping them, but often they’re already carrying this pure, unfiltered love that teaches us instead. She’s teaching me, every day, how to slow down, how to be more present, and how to show kindness in small, quiet ways.
There are times when I look at her and wonder what kind of person she’ll grow up to be. And then there are moments like these, where I realize—she already is someone. Someone with compassion. Someone who kisses to say sorry. Someone who cares when others cry. Someone who notices when Mommy’s face changes and wants to make it better with her tiny lips and soft voice.
I may be the adult, the one teaching her how to hold a spoon or zip up her jacket. But she’s the one reminding me how powerful love can be in the tiniest gestures. How much healing can come from a kiss, how much care can be shown by a toddler who stops playing just to make sure someone else is okay.
So yes, she’s in a biting phase. And yes, I hope she grows out of that soon. But if every bite comes with a burst of empathy and a shower of kisses, I’ll take it. Because what I see in her is more than just behavior. It’s the foundation of a kind heart. And that’s something I’ll always be proud of—whether she’s two or twenty.
No one tells you how many emotions you’ll feel from something as small as a toddler’s kiss. But now I know. And I’m grateful for every single one.
