Her People

I can't believe it's taken me this long to mention this to the blog, since it's something I marvel at every day.  Remember how I mentioned that Willow doesn't necessarily take to well to Toaster and RockNoodle?  Well, that's changed.  Completely.  It seemed like it was all of a sudden, too--just one day, they came into her line of sight, and she burst out with a delighted smile. 

And now, that's all it takes.  Do we have a sad Willow on our hands?  Somebody summon Toaster!  Get RockNoodle to do her happy baby dance!  She is thrilled to see them whenever they appear, and she demonstrates it with the biggest smile you've ever seen.  It's, quite frankly, awesome.  She knows that they are her people.

I wish I had a photo to demonstrate, but sadly, Willow sticks strongly to her no-smiling-for-the-camera-lest-it-steal-your-soul rule. 

In lieu of that, let me tell you a story that is tangentially related in my head, but probably not at all related in reality, but it's about siblings and people being your people specifically, so there's that.

When my niece was almost a year old, my sister Hannah and I tried to hold her, but she never let us.  She only wanted her mother.  It was most disappointing, since we hardly ever get to see her, and Hannah and I bemoaned the fact that we had no babies of our own, and we discussed how we couldn't wait for the time when we had babies who wanted only us so no one would be able to make us share, and wouldn't it be nice to be wanted, not to be rejected?  (My father, overhearing us, laughed and said we should be careful what we wish for.)

Fastforward to now, with a baby of my very own.  Last week, Willow and I went to lunch with some friends, and they held her off and on (Willow will let just about anybody hold her, for a time) until she wanted me back, and that worked out well enough.  Until I had to go to the bathroom.  I left her in Sara's capable hands, but no sooner had I entered the stall than a heartrending shriek filled the restaurant.  Needless to say, I peed as fast as I could.

When I told Dave about my lunch, he snorted, and said "And did that make you happy?"

The answer, my friends, is yes.  It did.