Babies I Have Known
So much of parenthood has been a process of discovering for myself all the things that are completely obvious and everybody else already knew.
Like, did you know that mothers really really love their babies? I mean really a lot? Did you know that? You probably knew that, huh? It’s not like all of human civilization isn’t built around an understanding of that fact.
And yet when I pick Davy up, and he’s warm against me and soft, then I have to give him a kiss, and then he chortles and beams at me, and then I love him so much I can barely stand it, and even though this is a thing that happens every day—and has happened every day since Robin was born three and a half years ago—there is still some little dumb piece of me that is surprised. On some level this experience is still just really amazing to me.
February 24th, 2011 at 9:30 am
I think this is why so many of us need to tell animals what kind of animal they are. That must-nurture part of the brain never gets over the presence of the thing to be nurtured. “You’re a CAT,” I would say to mine, over and over, “you have PAWS,” and similar idiocies. Do you tell your babies that they’re babies?
February 24th, 2011 at 10:44 am
ALL THE TIME. All the time. “You’re a baby!” in a tone of great surprise and delight. “You have TOES! How clever of you! What a clever baby, with your ten fat toes! Are they delicious? They look delicious! *kiss kiss kiss* oh my goodness they ARE delicious…”
Yes, the parallel is exact.