Little voices and sticky hands

Even when freshly washed and relieved of all obvious confections, children tend to be sticky. - Fran Lebowitz

My seventeen-month-old niece can easily become the highlight of my day. Without fail, I manage a call in to my sister, or she to me, every single day. Living a few hundred miles apart, we are kept close by the daily calls. And always, in the background, is the tinkling (albeit loud tinkling) voice of my little niece.

Her grandmother gave her the perfect little upholstered rocking chair - perfect height, perfect size, and perfectly cute. Lily uses it as a step-stool onto the other furniture. She'll drag it to wherever she needs it and without thinking, steps right up onto the couch or the taller, adult-sized recliner.

Phone calls can be interesting in that we are sometimes lucky to even hear each other. Lily puts in her two cents, and makes sudden demands, like "Piggies! Piggies!" - a session of "This little piggy" ensues, despite being on the phone.

My poor sister. As a part-time nanny, and full-time mom, most of her day is filled with conversations with people who haven't quite mastered grammar, or phonics, or (in a lot of cases) words. She's come to know what every little inaudible sound means - a whole new language. It's possible that the phone calls to friends and family are what keep her sane (and using adult language). Any parent of little ones can tell you how refreshing an adult conversation is, especially those that don't include breaks for diaper changing and insistent questioning.

And yet, the moment she's away from that little girl, Lily is all she can think about. Little mentions come up in every discussion. Searches for little toys or clothing or books, are made on independent trips to the mall.

The moment they are back in the same room together, she's immediately hugging her, fixing boo-boos with gentle kisses, wiping her hands, offering tickles and love.

Despite any complaints on motherhood, I think she's stuck with that kid. And I don't think she'd have it any other way.

Baby, baby!

This post is in honor of my niece, Lily Rae, who will soon be ten months old, has already been weened from the boob, gotten a tooth, and learned to walk. Oh, and apparently she knows all she needs to to get along in the world. Perhaps she went right from nine months to nineteen years old. They grow up so fast these days!

On the wall of her nursery, my brother-in-law painted the quotation (that I suggested, by the way):

Babies are bits of stardust, blown from the hand of God. - Barretto

What a wonderful thought! We start from somewhere (and thing) divine enough to think we deserve to be born in such a remarkable way. Like the potter, the glass-blower, the painter.

But as children often do, Lily reminded me of some of my favorite quotes that remind us of the wonder and imagination of childhood.

I hope you enjoy!

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real." "Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit. "Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt." "Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?" "It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." - Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

"If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you." - A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh