There is group of super awesome moms. They get together for playgroups, and we go every once in a while. It is especially fun because there is a big age range of kids, from newborns to 4 year olds. A lot of the moms have 2 kids, so they are not so new at this. Harper loves loves loves the toddlers. We go, I plop her down on the floor, and she is off, pulling up, standing by toddlers, trying to fit in.
When this happens, I don’t watch her very closely. Normally we hang out with more babies, and I have to watch her every second. She uses the immobile ones’ heads to pull up on, pulls hair, tries to grab eye balls (they are so shiny and pretty, who can blame her?) and slobbers all over her buddies. I figured the toddlers could fend for themselves, right?
I left the room with out asking anyone to keep an eye on her. I had never done this before. When I came back, there was a three year old lying face down on the floor. I could hear muffled cries, “Mommy? Mommy? Mommy!” Harper was standing over his head, with two fist full of his hair, jumping, pulling, drooling, delighted.
I pulled her off his head, and apologized profusely. The three year old headed strait for his mom’s lap. He clung to her and asked, “Why did the baby do that to me?”
Somehow, Harper has made at least one toddler friend. Piper. She narrates what Harper does to her mom. “Harper has wagon. Harper want muffin. Harper is eating trash bag.”
Milkymilk 