Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Pip and I have been having adventures lately. I grab my camera, she grabs her shoes and mine, and we head outside to get out of the house while the baby naps and I don't have to hold him.
I have determined that spending more time with her does not, in fact, lessen the amount of trouble she finds. But time together is good, and the sun is good, and even the un-mowed lawn is good. She loves to play, and just runs in circles and chatters away about life and things that matter to her.
Everyone, even her pediatrician, is amazed at her verbal ability. But I'm not. She's a little adult. She thinks things way beyond her years. She always has.
She's still a little girl, though, still wants to be the baby - the only baby. She regards Bredon with a certain amount of detachment, because she is smart enough to know that he is getting attention she wants.
Our times together are at least speaking to that.
She cracks me up.
This is her, ignoring my "smile!"
Yesterday afternoon, the neighbor boy visited, a five-year-old creeping toward us three feet at a time, intimidated by me after my visit to his mom for his picking on our cat through the window screen, intimidated by Piper for her being a girl - a friendly and talkative girl.
He finally made it to the corner of our driveway, where I was sitting, holding the baby (the depression was bad yesterday, very bad - so we were sitting in the sunlight). Piper had noticed him, and went over to talk to him. Boy did she talk. He didn't say much - just tossed grass at her that he'd pulled up.
Then he disappeared around the corner of the garage.
A few minutes later, he reappeared. Piper ran over to talk to him again, and I saw him toss something else at her.
Was that...? Oh wow.
It was a little pink flower he'd picked. And he had more in his hand. He watched her for her response.
My clueless girl leaned over, picked grass, and threw it back at him.
He tore back into his yard, leaving me giggling internally at their interaction.
I can't get enough of her lately, it seems. She and I do things differently, and we both want to do them our way when we do them together. We're learning our way around each other; I'm learning her independence, and she's learning my authority.
And sometimes, we hit it just right, and she comes running with an "I love you very much, Mommy," and I have an "I love you too" for her - no strings attached.
(Images © Informal Moments Photography)