Deconstruct

There is a baby in the house.
And honestly?
This world seems to scare her.
And I get it.

Things are big.
Confusing.
Complicated.
Messy and noisy.

She loves the remote for the tv.
Not because she can make the tv work with it,
But because she has learned that if she pushes one particular button
it will make a noise.
Sheer joy.

She hates the bath.
The entire sensory experience of wet
and warmth
and noise
accompanied by nervous adults attending
freaks her out.
But drain a little dribble of water from a cup onto her hand
and she bursts out with laughter.
Soon she is splashing all over the tub
in the wonder of that dribble.

In her high chair
she prefers cut foods she can pick up between her two tiny fingers
and pop into her mouth one at a time.
Understandable, doable doses.

On our walks, she does not enjoy the view from her stroller
as much as touching a flower
or grabbing a stick
or waving wildly at a dog

I too am overwhelmed and scared by the world.
I have begun to recapture the world in more doable doses.
Pausing to pick up a stone on the beach
Picking a single flower to put on my window sill
Reading a book instead of scrolling.

Sheer joy.