Yesterday at the park, Lily Ruth and Henry were following Jett around. Jett is four, and he's their hero. Lily Ruth spent several minutes trying to get him to notice the birds. When he finally figured out what she wanted, he announced that he would like to chase the birds. I said 'go for it', and the four of us got up to run after birds. Jett told me that his name wasn't Jett, it was something like 'Happy Thunder'. Lily Ruth followed this up with the pronouncement that her name was 'Doctor Porkchop'. I almost fell over. I asked if her name was 'Mister Evil Doctor Porkchop'. 'Yesh'. Thanks, Pixar :-P If anybody is wondering, Lily Ruth would like a copy of Toy Story 3 for her birthday. It's breaking her heart that she can't watch it on Netflix any more.
After chasing some birds, they decided to just run. They ran and ran and ran. My baby ran like she's never run before. Her beautifully free-form strides bouncing after her friends. Her hair floating around her face. Her happy squeals at being part of the game ringing out over the grass.
She fell twice. Normally, falling is a huge production that requires 'Mama hold you' and bandages on imagined hurts. This time, falling was just part of the deal. She was so thrilled to be included in the gang that she got back up, brushed off her actual wounds and kept going... until she got tired of being the slowest one... then she started to cry and demand that Jett hug her. Nicely played, my dear. Who can resist hugging Lily Ruth?
My baby girl is part of a gang. A happy, running, loving gang.