Parents are inherently biased towards their own kids, but with that caveat, I do believe Baby Girl is quite possibly the happiest little girl on the planet.
She has spent her life in a state of calm contentedness - fascinated with the world around her - each new site, sound or event an adventure to be soaked up, each new face to be greeted with a flash of a toothless smile. I don't doubt that all mothers have a special bond with their children, but ours feels different somehow - like a couple of old souls, best friends, separated by a generation.
She rarely cries, and giggles at the slightest things - when we mimic her, when we play games, when we tickle her, when we make ridiculously goofy faces. Her laugh is a deep belly laugh.
Yesterday, rather than tackling much of the work that needed doing inside, I took Baby Girl and we ran a few errands and visited a museum downtown. She rode in her Snugli against me and delighted customers at both Costco and the grocery store - watching (er, staring) various people intently, turning her head from side to side to soak in all the people, the sights and sounds. When spoken to, she flashed a huge grin.
At the museum, she was quiet as a mouse, turning her head this way and that when we went into a new exhibit, absorbing the new visual stimuli. Mid-way through, it was time for her mid-afternoon snack. Since we had to go to formula during the day two weeks ago, due to chronic weight issues, I found a bench in a quiet corner of the museum, made a bottle (silently giving thanks that Baby Girl happily drinks room temperature anything) and people-watched while she fed herself (such little skinny arms and tiny hands holding such a huge, heavy bottle makes me laugh every time).
A woman from the museum came over and started to chat with me. She said, "I've been watching. I've never seen an infant look so interested in the exhibits. She is certainly well-behaved." I told her how Baby Girl has long been portable not just in size, but in temperament - happy to be along for the ride, experiencing new things and seemingly absorbing everything along the way. Times will change, when that independent streak hits and she can mobilize on her own, but for now, I'm enjoying the quiet moments (and convenience) of her absolute contentment.
After her bottle, we finished the exhibits I wanted to see, and left about an hour later. We had been gone a total of five hours. She played happily on her activity mat for another hour while I put groceries away and started roasting a chicken. She flashed a huge grin to Himself when he arrived home and delighted both of us with a laughing spell that lasted a full five minutes.
I don't know what I did to warrant such a happy little soul, but the sunshine and peace she brings into our home and our lives is remarkable. I only hope that someday she realizes the magnitude of her contribution to our home in the few short months she's graced us with her presence.
1 comment:
It still just makes me laugh that you thought you would never be "maternal". :)
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