You could set three dozen of the greatest baby toys to ever exist in front of Vivi and she would manage to find the one piece of cat food on the floor and eat it.
You could set a hundred more toys in front of her with one butcher knife thrown in for good measure and she would head straight for the butcher knife. (Not that we just leave butcher knives lying around…)
The only toy that can really hold her attention right now is a little yellow car. She pushes and pulls it around, rolls it across her legs and chews on the wheels.
I’m grateful there’s at least one thing that will distract her because dude, my dad’s house is a labyrinth of solid wood furniture with very stabby corners and sharp edges. Over there in the corner? An 8 foot cactus, just in case the deadly furniture and slate tile stairs weren’t enough of a baby proofing challenge. Day 4 and so far she only has one bruise on her cheek from where she lost a very unfair battle with an oak buffet.
We’re all just sitting around, waiting for my sister to have her baby already.
I’m just going to go ahead and admit that when she got pregnant with the greatest of ease the old infertility wounds that had long since been smoothed over by Vivi began to bubble up and itch. Now that I’m here and my nephews arrival is imminent, I feel nothing but excitement and pride, perhaps a tad bit of over-protectiveness as well. She is happy, my family is happy, *I* am happy.
And hot dang if happy doesn’t look good on all of us.