Maeve is entering the world that captivated me for my whole childhood, as Mr. Rogers called it, the neighborhood of Make-Believe.
She has befriended a crocheted version of the Man in Blue, whom she calls Little Grover, and now instead of being a plaything, he has a voice, a soul, and she has adventures with him not as an object, but as a friend.
My grandmother made Grover especially for Maeve's first Christmas, and she has played with him off and on in the last two years, but all of a sudden, he has the spotlight. It could be because Daddy does a darned good Grover impression (who knew?), but I also think it's due to her imagination opening up and becoming even more creative.
I spent all my growing up years playing with stuffed animals; I was not into dolls, was not allowed to play video games, and wasn't interested in sports. It was all pretend play. My stuffed animals, along with my brother's and my best friend's, got into scrapes, saved the world, held up banks, got married, had sitcoms, ran newspapers, played in bands, and generally did anything we could imagine. It was a rich universe, and it made me a more creative person.
Needless to say, I'm thrilled that Maeve is already here. She doesn't exactly do a voice for Grover, but she does hold conversations with him, which at the very least gives me a break, since she's in a big constant-chatter phase right now. She has been busy teaching Little Grover about space and dinosaurs, two things she is so well educated about herself. They have built paper-towel-roll towers together, and yesterday they 'sailed across the sea' on my bed and saw whales and duckies. Or so I hear.
It's a wonderful neighborhood, where Make-Believe is king, and I hope she loves every minute.
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