They Don't Hate Me

My daughter is just like me.  She wants to love and hug and squeeze and kiss the guinea pigs.   She chases them down in the cage and then changes positions with them every two to five minutes.   She's almost frantic in wanting to love them.  

She's also moving around really fast and we're afraid she's going to hurt one accidentally.   She's blind after all and the little guys move fast.   But there is a bad side to this.   A side we caused, that we of course didn't mean to. 

I listened to what was said to my daughter this afternoon when she got home with Nana and Papa.   She wanted to show them, but she also wanted to put them in her lap, fold over on top of them and have the feeling of their little pattering feet in the space she had made into a body cave.

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Again and again, my daughter got told to be careful, to watch out, to this and that and on and on it went.   Was it good advice?  Yes.   But it makes my daughter feel like she's doing everything wrong. 

She was talking to her father the other night and he said they would live about as long as it would be before she went to college.   She replied, "no they won't" in a sad voice.   "Why not?" her father asked.  "Because I'll probably accidentally kill them before then."  We need to work on our positivity. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter did sit still long enough today in the little play pen to have them come up to her and start climbing over her legs.  She loved it.  She said they didn't hate her.   I told her of course they didn't/ 

The Big Boy Update:  What was my son up to tonight?  He was hidden in the pantry with his iPad on a stool.   He could have just gone to his room.  I have no idea why he was in there.