Living Large

H and I are, um, dare I say it? Quiet people. We're much more at home traipsing through old New England graveyards than boogie-ing on an earsplitting dance floor.

My sister-in-law likes to chuckle about how we've been blessed with a little guy on the opposite end of the spectrum. I still remember the first trip to the Midwest to see the grandparents, and the delighted shriek of Ma-MA! when Daniel spotted me through a crowded rest stop plaza, as I returned from the restroom. Feeding Tilly the Bunny some cheerios at the local Family Network is bound to produce similar delighted shrieks of laughter, Daniel fairly dancing on his toes with happiness.

The din around our place lately has had an opposite tone as well when Mama thwarts his quest for More Juice! or his plan to carpet every square inch of living space with the pieces-parts of various toys. Or the tooth-brushing wrestling match we engaged in tonight.

I think there's a little lesson here for me somewhere, as I realize that I don't want to constantly be the "No-Stop That!" person. I'd like to soak up a little of my baby's "living large spark" in the time to come. As exasperating as it can be - I do admire that about the little guy.