Her bright blue eyes pop open in surprise as I dangle the new toy in front of her face. Her little arms flail in an attempt to grasp the shiny rattle. Her hands finally connect with the handle and she bounces with excitement as she brings it to her mouth. It’s a cheap plastic rattle, but she thinks it’s the best toy in the world, at least until I show her something new.
She’s five months old. She’s only just woken up from that newborn stupor. The whole world in unfurling in front of her eyes and she’s delighted by each discovery. I remember this stage with C. I remember rediscovering the world through the eyes of a new baby. Everything looks fresh and new. Everything is beautiful and wondrous. Then babyhood gives way to toddlerhood and the wonder ceases, the child is no longer impressed with just seeing things, she has to understand them, put them in context, see how they work, how they relate to her.
This time around I want to hold on tight to some of that innocence. I want to train a little corner of my brain to still see the miracle in everyday sights. I want my world to be new every day. I want to be excited by the mundane. And once I’ve rediscovered the beauty of the my surroundings, then I want to write about it so I never forget again.