Aveline has passed the ignoring phase when it comes to her newborn sibling and is now entered the extremely curious phase. This phase causes her to examine Scarlett as closely as possible. All toddlers are naturally inquisitive, as well as innately clumsy and boorish. These qualities mixed with a titanium strength will serve up a disaster cocktail.
Needless to say, any of Aveline's newborn examinations are done under heavy parental supervision. Usually, one of us has to hold her and her hands, otherwise, many of Scarlett's orifices are explored by tiny index fingers, much to the newborn's dismay. We've tried to explain to our adoring toddler that the baby is fragile and that she needs to be "gentle" when she wants to touch Scarlett. Ha. Aveline's vocabulary will probably not include the word "gentle" until it shows up on a spelling test in second grade. My first-born is very, how should I say, rough and tumble. She enjoys playing roughly and throwing her body around like she is reenacting some ancient battle in a rare form of Incan interpretive dance. To her, gentle doesn't exist. So we let her view Scarlett from afar, unless Dan and I are both present. The pack and play bassinet that we employ during the day serves as a fairly safe area for Aveline's observations.
Even the most monstrous toddler can have a sweet side. During the course of her play, Aveline will bring different toys and toss them into the crib where Scarlett is sleeping, eerily reminiscent of laying gifts at an altar. While peering into the crib, after dropping her fifteenth wooden block at Scarlett's feet, a very sugary, soft voice whispers "Baaaybeeee." She looks at me and smiles with delight in her eyes. I think Aveline is starting to realize her sibling's potential as a playmate and a friend. From Scarlett's vantage point.