Try to imagine how awesome it must be to be two years old, sitting in a warm bathtub, playing with toys. Your parents are in the room (or nearby), and it’s night. Pretty soon you’ll read some books in your mommy’s lap and then go to sleep. You don’t know what time it is. You don’t know what’s happening tomorrow. You have nothing in the world to worry about.
I was watching Ayla tonight as I washed her hair, thinking about this. As poured water on her head to rinse off the shampoo, she was playing with the little streams that rolled off the front of her head, trying to aim them into a little toy in her hands. But every time she’d move the toy toward the stream, she’d turn her head a little as well, like a dog chasing its tail.
Earlier in the evening she and I spent about ten minutes practicing ‘upsidedown’, which is where she climbs up on the chair next to her crib and then does a little front flip over the railing to plop in. Followed by ‘I can do it!’ and running in circles. Then she climbs out again (with me spotting her) and repeats the process.
Watching her makes me ache for that same childhood innocence and bliss. I can barely sit still on the couch for two minutes without getting antsy or checking e-mail. She views every surface cushy enough to sit or lie as a potential trampoline. She is a discoverer of alternative uses for boring things. If she could write a book, she could write a book.