Always reaching

Aren’t they? Seems that the little ones are always reaching. Reaching for a binky, a pothandle, a brush that they can’t use or a remote that holds the key to their happiness.

I watched intently yesterday as my older daughter, 2 ½ , stretched upon her tippiest of tiptoes and reached to carefully place her Dora plate onto the top of the counter just beneath those cute little toddler hands…She turns to me, chestnut eyes gleaming in the moment, “Be careful with the peas,” she says. I’m beaming on the inside because I realize that she does listen to me.

The pride my 2 ½ year old takes in ownership of her little plastic stool is a sight to behold. She realizes this makes me taller! It is as if the stool is her new best friend, her compadre, her partner-in-crime. We’ve had to rearrange everything on our kitchen counters, hide knives, and remove the ever-dangerous cookie jar. Though, I have to be honest, it gives me a sense of pride to see a 2 ½ year old super dedicated to discovering new worlds, new couches, and new cookies. She’s funny about that stool, too. “Daddy, where’s my stool? I have to brush my teeth! Daddy, where’s my stool, I have to brush my hair.” I’m dreading the day when I hear, “Daddy, where’s my stool? I need to give my boyfriend a goodnight kiss.”

And my six-month-old is always reaching…as she should. This morning with her bouncing in my lap, she was relentlessly cavorting, trying to pry the bowl from my grasp so she, too, could experience the joys of my cholesterol lowering bowl of Cheerios…

All the while I’m trying to distract her with her squishy hippo monster. “Look here, no, no, no, here, at baby hippo!” I blinked. Mistake. She thwarted herself forward and victoriously nabbed the edge of my bowl, tossing Cheerios, milk, spoon and my sense of serenity careening away in that single blink. Now, you may be saying, “Just put your daughter in her chair,” but I am very aware that time passes within that blink and that I’d rather be in the throngs of a Cheerio tornado than in the calm seas of her daily rice cereal and bib moments.

Just the other day I watched our 6 month old study our cat like there is no tomorrow. I watched her eyes start at his ears; she cocked her head and noticed that his ear kept flipping. While he was listening to the birds outside, my daughter was watching him. From the ears, she reached out for his nose...a BIG no-no!! He only hissed, but it could have been worse. Upsetting a cat in comfort is like shaking a can of soda…an explosion is imminent; it’s just a matter of time. I gently grabbed her arm and began to pet the top of the cat’s back ever-so gently. Our little gumless wonder looked at her daddy and just giggled for what seemed minutes.

I want both my daughters to reach for all that the world has to offer them, from the simple scent of a blooming rose to the solving of the most difficult algorithms…I just don’t ever want them to stop reaching…