She is an inventor of games. Baby girl’s newest is not my favorite–twist and wriggle out of mama’s grasp during the evening’s final diaper change–but I overwhelmingly enjoy these displays of creativity, imagination, and fun. Sometimes I unwittingly contribute to their invention.
Like when she heads toward an area of the house where I don’t want her to go (the entryway where our shoes track in the black gravel strewn all aver the sidewalks, for example) and I come chasing after her. This started when she was crawling, and she would shriek when she saw me coming, then scoot in a circle. Now that she’s walking, she’ll try to toddle faster or just drop to the floor. I scoop her up, and giggles ensue.
She started tilting her head to look at you sideways. It quickly evolved into a game where she tilts one way and looks at you expectantly. You tilt your head the same way, and she smiles. Then she tilts her head the other way and waits. You tilt your head that way. Giggles ensue.
Mama stacks blocks or cups. Baby girl knocks them down. Giggles ensue.
She’s invented multiple ways to play peek-a-boo. Behind the arm of the couch. Covering her eyes with her hands. Holding a book in front of her face. But my favorite is when I’m sitting on the floor with her. She walks behind me, her little hands on my back. “Where’s the baby?” I call. She takes a few steps to the left, peeks around my shoulder, grinning. “There she is!” And giggles ensue.
While she’s nursing, she’ll point to my nose and mouth. I name them for her, and point to hers. “Mama’s nose, baby girl’s nose.” So simple. Giggles ensue.
After nose and mouth, she started poking and pinching my neck. So I tickle hers. Giggles ensue.
It was right in the middle of one of these games that the thought smacked me in the face: one day I won’t be her best friend. That is as it should be–I’m the parent–but it still stung. Thankfully that day is still a few years away (I hope).