My little girl is nearly 11 weeks old now, with a decent head of hair, big blue eyes and her mamma’s nose. She now smiles, and smiles big when we’re close to her. She sleeps through the night most nights due to being on a hybrid feeding arrangement: nursed first, and supplemented by tube or bottle with formula. Watching her lay one of her Moomin quilts (courtesy of her mummo back in Indiana), I couldn’t help but think about what it’s like to be her.
She’s curious. She’s growing on a daily basis. She has only a few essential needs to be happy. She wants to be close to people and observe things as they go by. She knows what she wants, and knows how to get it. She communicates in a very direct (and intense) way. She doesn’t fuss about what she wears, what other people wear, or what color her furniture is; she doesn’t care at all about tangible things. When she doesn’t like something, she knows, for the most, what to do in order for something to change. She’s receptive to change and to being surrounded by a wide variety of people. She likes moving around, going places and taking a break when she’s had her fill. She sees all people as generally the same, even if they’re not. She is able to entertain herself when she either needs to or wants to. She inspires other people as she is.
Truthfully, there are many days where I wish all of those things could happen in my own life.
Perhaps she is a reminder that such a way of living can indeed take place.