Little Scientist

I could watch Avery sit – just sit – all day. Of course, that’d never happen because she’s so busy exploring everything. She moves from the moment she wakes up until the time she rolls over and tucks her knees under her belly to go to sleep at night.

Yesterday we went for a walk, just her and me. For the first time, I left the stroller in the garage and let her walk alongside me. It was slow-going since every cracked sidewalk or crunched leaf offers Avery an opportunity for discovery.

She collected the spiky seed pods from the liquid amber trees, dangling each from its stem and examining it like a Christmas ornament about to be hung. Then she found a pile of waxy orange cottonwood seeds, strewn across the concrete like fancy beads. One by one, she gathered them and scratched the coating off to reveal the shiny espresso-colored surface underneath. And it occurred to me, she wasn’t the only one who was fascinated.

Boom

During our 4th of July trip to Wisconsin, Avery's uncles and cousins taught her that the firework says, "Boom." It became her new favorite word, and each time she'd hear a capgun or firework going off outside she'd look at us very matter-of-fact and say, "boom."

This learning took on a hilarious new twist when, as we were in a doctor-office waiting room, she passed gas, looked up at me and declared, "boom."