Drinking thine image with my eyes

I've seen that phrase before, here and there, and had some vague notion of what it meant. Sort of like feasting one's eyes upon a desirable object.
And now I really "get" what it means. It's what happens, every evening when I walk in the door upon my return from the working world (or make that the "paid" working world), and I cast my eyes about, searching for and locating my youngest. Whatever he's doing, whereever he is, I will stop and gaze upon his tiny, energetic body as he either runs to me excitedly, or sits upon the lowest stair and jabber on in his nonsensical syllables. He may be at the sliding door to the backyard, watching his older siblings, or throwing a tantrum on the kitchen floor because he's been taken away from his beloved game of hockey. It doesn't matter to me. I am content to watch him, and fill my mental video card with images of him. As I drink in the sight of Quinn, I feel the stresses of the work day (that is, paid work day) and the frustrations of the commute home melt away.  It's as if the day long separation from Quinn has depleted my inner stores of energy, and seeing him once again restores my equilibrium.
Don't be mistaken that I don't love gazing upon my other three children. I do, most especially when they are sleeping and appear angelic. But I harness a different energy from the others, probably because they can converse with real words, and can relay to me, snippets of their day that I am not around to personally witness. I can replay our conversations in our mind later when I'm away from them. Their antics make me smile (like Devlin's impromptu song and dance on my bed, in front of our mirror, not realizing his parents were watching from the hallway), and their verbal declarations of affection a perfect balm to my exhausted soul. Of course, the fact that Devlin, Ceilidh and Aisling can talk also means they may add to my daily stresses the moment I walk in the door. To be bombarded with outrageous requests, disagreements, and having to referee before my high heels are off makes me want to run out the door.
This morning, Quinn woke up much too early in my opinion. But the moment he opened his eyes, there was a smile on his face. He showed no interest in his Daddy, but gazed upon me, his sleepy mother. He refused all suggestions to sleep a little longer. Instead, he insisted on smiling and staring at me. His eyes were drinking in my image, and perhaps he was filling up his mental stores of mommy's face in preparation for our daily separation.
Or perhaps, he was just waiting for Mommy to smile and signal that she was ready to play. The moment I did smile, and reached out to tickle him, he promptly put his fingers up my nose and giggled heartily.