Why it’s great to be a baby
Sometimes I think it must be pretty awesome to be a baby. Sure, they have to poop in their pants and they can’t speak or move around too well or do pretty much anything on their own, but everything is new and exciting. They can look at an empty box and think, “THAT IS THE MOST AMAZING THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”
We should all be so lucky.
Here is a list of things that fascinated the Popple today:
- A canvas bag full of glass recycling
- Her own fingers
- The back of a wooden chair
- The TV remote
- My ear
- A page that she ripped out of a lift-the-flap book
- Her new toothbrush (Apparently we’re supposed to brush her tiny almost-two teeth, which is a total farce, because she just grabs the toothbrush out of our hands and chews on it.)
Watching the Popple discover the world is one of my favourite things about being a parent. I love hearing her giggle or when she reaches her arms out to me for a hug, but nothing gets me like seeing her get excited over weird little things.
When you spend your day with someone who thinks that everything is the best thing ever, you start to appreciate things in a new way. The way the door handles in your house go up and down. How soft your cat is. The great sound a bowl makes when it’s banged repeatedly on the table. The view out of a dirty train window, on your way to somewhere new.