The Hobbit Hole

My In-laws were here over the long weekend to visit Conrad and me and Nellianne. It was nice to see them and they hadn't seen Nells since last May - way too long. :) I'll write more on that later.

Over the past week or so Little Miss. has become increasingly more adventurous. Her mad crawling skills have improved to the point that she cannot be placed on the floor because in .2 second she will be halfway across the room. It's true. Ask Homer - the unfortunate recipient of her antics lately. He's so stinkin' patient with her! She pulls on his tail, screeches in his ear, fiddles with his dog tags and tries to eat his toys. He just looks at me like "Mom if you EVER bring another one of these home, I will eat it." Then he licks her and wanders off. Unless she's holding his tail. The he yelps, cries in pain, looks at me, tries to wander off again, yelps. cries in pain...well...you get the picture.

Our office is upstairs next door to Sesame's room, as I've mentioned before. We both go upstairs when it's time to work. She scoots around on the floor and I click away at the screen. The other day I felt tiny little hands on my feet. I glanced down between my legs to find a goofy grin staring up. She gurgled something that sounded like a bellowing elephant and returned to eating the chair leg. Which I promptly stopped. Or didn't.

Yesterday she decided her new lodging should be beneath the desk. That's right, I said lodging. She doesn't just play under the desk anymore, she is moving in. First, she tailed her blankie behind her, Linus-style, which I thought nothing of. Frankly, the blankie is a third limb for her. A flailing gelatinous limb, but one nonetheless. When she scooted in the second time, she brought her Dr. Seuss Giraffe. This exercise continued until the cubby beneath my keyboard was covered with several toys. And a baby. 20 pounds of baby. On my feet.

I stealthily pushed the keyboard in and peered between my legs. She replied with her scrunchy-nosed, gaping mouth smile and a shriek. Then continued playing as if I was nonexistent.

It's like a Hobbit Hole really. A tiny little entrance. Lots of knick-knacky items lying about. A short, midget-like lady inside. Happy smiles. Silly sounds. Odd ages. A slight foot obsession (she can't stop playing with my feet!). We just need a minute, round door and we're set. :)

I just put her down for a nap and kicked the toys as I sat down. I started to pick them up and changed my mind. The time when a little hobbit inhabits the space under my desk is brief - fleeting. I think I'll hang on for as long as I can.