Monkey Abbie

A few days ago I had the opportunity to admire the primate in Abigail. I took her to At Play Cafe for one of our play dates, and while there -- after a few minutes of shyness -- she let her wild side shine through.

She climbed, she jumped, she run, she hopped, she grabbed, she explored, she built, she destroyed, she flirted, she talked and laughed, and she just plain wore herself out with so much fun! I got a little winded, too, due to my constant running behind her to ensure she wouldn't crack her skull. It was tough to keep up with the little monkey! Beware: she's is always lively and on-the-go. I've had to practically re-arrange the whole house and get rid of some of our furniture because she was climbing all over it, tipping it, crawling under it, and pushing it around with all her might. The kid is a dynamo, and can effortlessly wear out an entire platoon.

Also, while at At Play, Abigail apparently decided that anyone could hold her and she'd be totally fine with it. At one point, my friend Christine picked her up (no doubt because she was causing a ruckus), and once back down, Abigail kept on going back to her and lifting her arms as if saying: "Here I am! Up, up!" I don't mind my friends holding Abbie, but I noticed that she went up to a couple of strangers (other moms and dads with their kids), and after engaging them in an animated preliminary conversation, hug their legs and raised her arms to them. I'm so proud of my little girl: at least she introduces herself to strangers before soliciting their services.

Abbie looooves William, Christine's gorgeous little boy. Their reciprocal love story is the cutest thing to witness. Wee-yam (as she calls him -- though not to his face) was always a step behind her, she a step behind him. It makes me smile. She also played with her little buddies, Charlotte, Arnav, Camilla, and other random kids.

On our way home, stuck in traffic, I peeked at Abbie, quietly slumped in her car-seat, looking ahead with a worn out stare, mouth slightly parted. I turned to her, and she immediately responded with the sweetest of all weary smiles. One that said: "I'm so happily exhausted". I was too. Happy.