"She wants her babies." It's 6am and Olivia is crouching in front of the fireplace in the living room.
"What babies?" I ask.
Olivia lowers her chin and looks up at me with an expression that says she's about to tell me something very serious and factual. "Shovel babies," she says.
"Ahh." I realize she's talking about the brass fireplace shovel that is leaning against the mantel. Last night as I tried to build a fire she had shown a lot of interest in it. This morning it is a mommy shovel with babies.
As it happens, there are a couple of little plastic shovels in the toy box. I dig them out and present them as the missing babies. Olivia is satisfied with this and proceeds to arrange the baby shovels around their mommy, speaking softly to them in a reassuring tone.
Olivia is starting to do a lot of this kind of pretend play. Her toys talk to each other. She changes the pitch of her voice to give each one a distinct personality. The toys ask about each other's wellbeing. They discuss their relationships. Usually these relationships are of the parent/child sort. The toys have needs. Usually they want their mommies and daddies. Sometimes they want their babies.
Sometimes there's danger. Olivia has invented a game called "Hide from the Dragon" wherein she yells "Here comes the dragon!" and we have to hide under a blanket until it's gone. When did she hear about dragons? When was the last time we watched or read anything having to do with dragons?
This is the kind of thing that amazes me. The way she collects information autonomously. I realize I've been taking it for granted that she only retains the information we consciously pass on to her. She's actually pulling this stuff in from everywhere, processing it, turning it into things I never could have expected. Like shovel babies.
This is a very sad-faced picture of her, but it's the most recent one I have. Her face was so full of pathos I couldn't resist taking the shot. She's actually a pretty happy kid, but this shot is still 100% Olivia.
--
Chris
