Babies: They spit up on your shoulders (and your lap and in your hair); you cheer when they burp, you sing while you change their diapers and make silly faces to make them smile. And what a reward when they do grace you with a smile–or better yet, with a laugh!
Yes, I just spent time with my baby grandson.
I am trying to maintain some grandmotherly restraint. I don’t whip out my phone and show off the latest pictures after saying “Hello, do I know you?” to someone at the local farmer’s market. Not quite. I did actually know the person I saw at the farmer’s market, so it was okay. I’m pretty sure.
But, come on. It’s so hard to avoid sneaking peeks at that little face when I have the pictures right here. And movies too. There’s this one where he’s looking around, playing with his toy, and then makes some cute noises that kind of sound like a bird. Wait for it . . .adorable, right?
He’ll be a chatty kid, I bet. He’s already making sounds at the appropriate moments. I imagine what he’s thinking: did you see that thing? What is it? A foot? My foot? Get out, really? Awesome! There it is again–didya see it? And . . .toes, I mean, who thought of toes?
Look, if I just bend over in half, I can . . .get . . . that . . .one . . . in my mouth! Ta da!
If babies could do stand-up routines, they would crack each other up. So much material ripe for comedy. Life is a constant stream of amusements, punctuated by sleeping and eating. If only they could talk and had a team of baby comedy writers. Well, maybe it’s just as well. Anyone over six months might not see the humor in teething jokes.
There is something mesmerizing about their little faces, looking into their observant eyes: so much going on, so much to see and hear, and taste. The largest question seems to be: can I grab that and get it in my mouth?
|I can touch them, but can I eat them?|
If you’ve spent any time around babies, you surely know that sweet spot just behind the ear, right on the neck. You kiss that, and inhale the aroma of babyness, and it makes you both happy. I call it stealing some sugar, but I can’t say exactly why. Doesn’t matter. I steal it, get to kiss that spot and make a baby laugh.
The predictability of it, the repetition–love it, never get tired of it.
Baby love, oooh, baby love….
Been missin ya, miss kissin ya….