squeals of delight

With the exception of one time, baby girl has skipped right over laughing and gone straight to squealing.  Whenever she is happy/excited/possibly just plain bored, the toes start wiggling, the arms start flailing, and she lets loose with high-pitched squeals.  The first few times she did it, the noise (and probably the volume) shocked her so much she immediately burst into tears. 

My husband and I love it.  I must not smile enough, because the past few days my face has hurt from grinning widely as I watch my girl enjoy life so much that her body can’t even stand it.

But it got me thinking:  when was the last time I squealed with delight?  When was the last time I experienced such unbridled joy that I couldn’t even contain myself?  When was the last time I saw any adult exhibit elation with their whole being?

Maybe that’s also why I love watching her so much.  Because, for me, that kind of innocent enthusiasm, truly being exhilarated by life, is gone.  Why do we lose that?  Is it because, for babies, everything is so fresh and so new, and as you get older, no experience offers you that same kind of sensation, of originality, that those first few years do?  Are we jaded?  Self-conscious?  Too busy?

And how do we get it back?  I don’t know the answers to my questions, but when I see my daughter feel nothing but pure happiness, I cannot help but want her to always feel that way, and for me to feel that way too. 

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