It’s Not All Mary Poppins

Boop it, anyway

Baby Lily goes butt-up. You know the pose: two hands on the floor, over-sized baby head peering out upside down and backward in the smallish gap between two pudgy baby knees, the oversized cloth diaper, and the floor.

“Peek!” Baby Lily hollers out between her legs. She can’t see anyone, but she knows we’re there. “Peek!!” She invites us to share the joke. “Peek! Funny!!”

Baby Grace watches with curious solemnity. (This is the way Baby Grace approaches most things. Not at all gloomy, not that. Wide-eyed, curious, but generally a little serious… which makes her smiles of delight or discovery or affection or humour that much more precious.) Baby Grace watches, solemnly, and then… plop! go her hands onto the floor.

I’m sure it is entirely coincidence that she’s dropped herself such that the girls can gaze directly at each other from between their short little legs. Coincidental, yes, and also perfect, and perfectly, hysterically funny.

“Peek! Funny! Peek! FUNNY!!!” Lily looooooves this. Her husky chortles meld with Grace’s high, spun-silver giggles.

Two clothy butts in the air, two sets of hands on the floor, two burbling rivers of baby giggles. And my camera is right beside me! Any parent knows, ruefully, how many wonderful Kodak moments are lost, irretrievably lost, because you had to stand up and get the camera. (Or worse, can’t find it at all.) But right now, at this perfect, perfect moment? My camera is snug in the chair with me! I won’t have to get up, which would almost certainly distract them and ruin my perfect, perfect moment. I slip the camera into my hands, pop off the lens cap.

Neither of them has noticed me. Any parent also ruefully knows how many perfect moments have been lost when a kid spots the camera, drops the delightful, spontaneous, beautiful thing they were doing, stands up and pastes on that dreaded, damnable, cheesy, who-taught-them-that-stupid-thing-anyway Camera Grimace. But I, with my camera right beside me, with my camera now in my hands with the lens cap off, have not been spotted.

“Peek!” Giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle. “Peek! Funny! Funny!!!”

I turn the camera on.


It’s not a loud noise, but the damage is done. Damn those electronic boops. Two little heads come up, one fake-oh uber-cheesy camera smile appears (Baby Lily), one somber little pair of enormous blue eyes stare at me (Baby Grace). Damn, damn, damn. No more giggles, no more butt-up, no more “Peek!”

I carefully don’t make eye contact with either of them. I leave the camera on, slip it beside me, and ostentatiously Pick Up My Book. Very, very ostentatiously. See me reading? I’m not watching you two, oh no, not me! I’m reading my book. My utterly rivetting book. You two can just go back to whatever it was you were doing, because I’m not paying attention AT ALL. Nu-uh, not me.

Well. Sometimes it works.

For the next three or four minutes they play dippy-birds. One goes down, the other comes up. One comes up, the other goes down. Never again do I have that perfect moment where they’re giggling at each other between their short little legs. Never once are they both angled in a way such that I could capture them both in one frame. Not one more clear photo op…

I took a short video, which will amuse their parents, but I am sorry, wonderful readers, I have nothing for you today.

And all because of my booping camera.

October 4, 2010 Posted by | Grace, Lily | , , , , , | 3 Comments