Ginger keeps mom busy

Through e-mail, my grandbaby’s mother keeps me posted on the baby’s discovery of the world. She writes:
“I’m not taking Ginger to the store with me again for a long time. We went shopping for fruits and milk and confronted Easter chocolates and stuffed bunnies.”
“Ginger wanted them all.”
“It wouldn’t have been so bad, but they tucked stuffed animals everywhere. In the produce section, bunnies were stuffed between cabbages and bananas. Ginger cooed and pointed her dainty little finger at the stuff animals she wanted me to get her. I snatched a couple bananas and dashed for the meat section. I looked for ground beef, Ginger spotted three bunnies on top of the meat case. She cooed, pointed and tried to get out of the cart to get them. I grabbed something I hoped was beef and headed for the dairy aisle. We passed the bakery with its bread, cakes, sweets, leftover King Cakes and bigger bunnies beckoning my baby. She cried crocodile tears for just one more stuffed animal to add to her collection.
“Telling her to say ‘bye, bye to the bunnies,’ quieted her until we reached the checkout counter where management outsmarted me. More bunnies were tucked among the magazines, tabloids and candies: Close enough for her to reach. As I unloaded groceries she grabbed one. I told her no. She cried, clinging tightly to the soft squeeze-able bunny as I wrestled it from her. I felt the other shoppers condemning me for depriving my child of a wonderful, lovable bunny.
“Management won. I soothed my guilt and Ginger with a package of candy she didn’t need.”
“Whether grabbing or walking, she moves quickly. Actually she doesn’t walk, she runs, especially when she has been naughty. Plus she climbs fast. After the bunny disaster as I put groceries in the refrigerator, she climbed up two racks before I could empty my hands and pull her down.
“This climbing phase is scary. The other day I was working in the kitchen, heard her grunting turned and saw my acrobat with one foot touching the high chair’s footrest as she dangled from the tray with both hands. My heart race with fear as I rushed to pluck her from her precarious perch.
“Before the climbing phase hit, I let her play with the plastic dishes on the lower shelves of the pantry. When she began clearing the shelves of plastic dishes and climbing up the canned food shelves those doors of opportunity closed to her.
“At naptime she does settle down when I read Dr. Seuss’s ABCs.”
She echoes the letter sounds, humming all the way through ‘many mumbling mice are making midnight music in the moonlight.’ Recently, we got a new stack of children’s books, she exploded with happiness: cooing, pointing at them and picking up first one book then another.
“Although trying to keep her safe wears me out, I am having a lot of fun watching her discover life through climbing, bunnies and books.”


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