Week 21: The Attached Parent

So if you were alive during the late 90's (and if you're reading this, you probably were), you remember a song by Hansen called Mmm Bop. You might even admit to listening to it, or maybe even liking it (it was catchy, wasn't it?). But it was nonesense, right? Mmm Bop isn't even a word, right? Well, if you ask Will, it is not only a word, it is currently his favorite word.

He rolls around from his tummy to his back uttering "Ahmmm Bup". He talks to his hands, "Mmmm Bup", his toys, "Bup Bup Bup" and greets me, sometimes with just a "mmmm", which of course I've taken to mean "mommy".

So he is still quite a talker, even when he isn't happy. Usually then he makes an irritated, hhhaammm sound. But his laugh... oh, how do describe it? Like a cross between a machine gun and an old man chuckling, "heh heh heh heh". One of his favorite games is to have one of us shake our head on his tummy, and say "I'm going to get you!". He cackles in anticipation with one hand wedged permanently in his mouth and drool pouring out. Which brings us to Will's main goal in life: Getting his whole fist in his mouth. First he tries one fist, then the other, and then both at once, figuring, I suppose, that one may be used as some kind of shoe horn. Nothing will derail him from his objective, and I admire his gusto.

I had forgotten the simple joy of babies after a few years with a tempermental toddler and preschooler. How, if Will's little face was any happier, it could just break in two. How is eyes twinkle, and how he is so overcome with bliss when he's nursing that his eyes roll back in his head.

I've been re-reading a book called Attachment Parenting by Katie Allison Granju to brush up on some things (A must-read by anyone who handles children, in my opinion). Even though I had checked out the book with Will in mind, I ended up thinking a lot about Emily and her babyhood. She spent so many hours in her sling, at what point did I stop carrying her? Of course I pick her up now and then, but I can't remember the last time I really carried her. After years of complaining about her not wanting to go in a stroller, and aching arms, suddenly I realize that we'll never have those times again. And I felt a little sad.

I also checked out The Little House on the Prarie to read to Emily. So far, getting past the whole "there are no pictures" concept has been difficult. Luckily, I also got a book called School on the Frontier or something like that. It reads something like "The schoolhouse had one room, sometimes with a small room where children would put their coats!" Very dry, but there are cool old photographs that I thought would flesh out the whole historical aspect of the Little House books. Shockingly enough, Emily has only wanted to read the schoolhouse book, so my plan actually backfired. But I'm not giving up. I loved the Little House books when I was Emily's age. I remember listening to the descriptions and imagining what everything looked like on the prarie, Mary with her blonde hair, Pa's big arms, the ponies pulling the wagon, even the food, which in hindsight sure seems pretty bad!

So I hope Emily will appreciate the books, or if not these, some series. As I wandered through the library's youth section, I passed shelves lined with The Bobsey Twins, The Boxcar Children, and even The Babysitter's Club, and it was like visiting old friends. I can't wait for Emily to enjoy getting lost in a book.

Emily said something really funny today. We were watching TLC's A Baby Story (A bit of pure programming genius on the part of TLC, trapping emotional new mothers home with their babies all day, reliving the most traumatic / joyous days of their lives) as I was making lunch and Emily said "I don't think I'll have a baby when I grow up". I asked very interested where this was coming from, "Why not?", and she replied "I don't want to have a shot". Oh honey. Compared to the rest of it, the shot is the least of your worries. But I played it off pretty well, reminding her of how she has had shots before, and how, really, not everyone necessarily needs a shot to have a baby. But I laughed to myself, it's funny how little minds work.

In other ways, I'm astonished at how unfunny other little minds work. I asked Emily if she wanted to wear this paticularly sweet little dress to school, and she said "No, Sierra said that I wear it too much". What!? Now, I know Emily is not perfect, far from it. But I know her well enough to know that she wouldn't engage in such materialistic, hurtful behavior. Not that Emily was hurt by the comment, she doesn't know better, but I burned with rage as I explained that if Sierra continued to say things like that, Emily should tell her to mind her own business. But really, even though I'm tempted to throw a few insults at this paticular child's family here, the truth probably is that this kid's life at home must be pretty awful for her to have to degrade other people like that. Yesh, it's only kindergarten for god's sake, I shudder to think of what kids are saying in junior high.

I'm just thankful that Emily seems, for the most part, to let things roll off her back. It will take more than that to upset her. Like, say, telling her to clean her room.