Say this about Hope: She has no problems amusing herself.
The girl finds a lot of stuff funny. Her rings? Hilarious. Mo's big pregnant belly? As good as a pie in the face of a clown and more fun to grab and pat. Her bottle? Mamma Mia. Hours of entertainment.
Part of it is hereditary, we're sure. We like to laugh. Mo laughed so hard at a rerun of "King of Queens" on a long redeye flight once that I woke up thinking a deranged person was on the plane. Mo's mother should rent her services to fledgling comedians.
Some of it probably is cognitive issues for Hope, too. But she's so infectious, it often doesn't matter. Hope laughs at her walker. She breaks into giggles pounding blocks. The back of the couch has her in stitches.
It could be punchiness or another highly clinical state known as "toddler-dom," but Hope for long stretches at a time can border on giggling hysteria. Everything is hilarious! Mom has elbows? Oh my God, I can't stand it! Dad's wearing a striped shirt! Stop! Stop! You're killing me! The cat walked by. No more! No more. I'm a lady!
Hope's newest source of hilarity is bending over. She has discovered that when she drops stuff, she can move bend one knee and reach with her arms to try to retrieve it. Funny! She will lean over for 30 or more seconds and laugh and giggle away. Soon, she will realize her arms aren't long enough to reach her toy. She could bend both knees. But no, no. She is laughing too hard now. So she stays there, half-leaning and in complete hysterics.
This has persisted for about a week. At some point, Hope had a Eureka moment: I don't have to drop anything to bend over and it will still be awesome.
So she does. One minute, she will be cruising along, slavishly obeying the toy that commands her to "Touch the little bear ... and play with me." The next, she's half bent over, tee-hee-heeing at the marvelousness of arms, backs and the floor.
We'd be lying if we said it wasn't a little weird sometimes. But she pulls it off. And makes us smile.
