We didn’t know how much we missed him till he showed up. He smiles and jumps when you walk into his room. He has this bouncy dance he does as he holds on to his bed rail; the happiest prisoner, bouncing his body up and down; no judgment just joy at being noticed. He is a bundle of excitement, curiosity and babbles. He reaches, he crawls, he tastes with such determination and tenacity. He’s standing so walking and running are coming attractions. He smiles and laughs generously. He blows razzleberries with extra saliva; sticking his tongue out and gurgling dddftttttttttt. New words are coming but Dada and Mama are current favorites.
He loves to eat and tries everything. Not only will he savor what is given to him he will make sure you share whatever you are eating. He knows he comes from a sharing family. He likes to feed himself and, while his finger to mouth coordination is not quite there yet, he can fist most foods in his mouth, lifting and shaking the plate to catch every last bite.
On our first jaunt to the play area outside his apartment, we load up the jogging stroller and walk in the sunshine to the baby swing. In his puffy yellow jacket he sways in the bright sunshine, looking around curiously and reaching for the chains of the swings. As he crawls under the jungle gym I have to continually drag him from or kick away tiny bits of branches, leaves, and pebbles because he wants to taste everything; but he’s just too fast for me and stuffs something in his mouth. I politely ask him to spit it out as he chomps and sucks but he looks up innocently and ignores me. I open his mouth gently at first, then a little more firmly but can’t find anything; I know he’s hiding it. He continues to gum something as I grow increasingly alarmed and just when I’m ready to shake him upside down he spits a brown pebble, the size of a red bean, from his mouth and smiles up at me; great way to restart my heart, his own version of a grandma stress test. Later, I put him halfway down on the plastic slide and, as he slides down, seems more puzzled than entertained. We try two times and he lies peacefully at the end of the slide looking around. Everything in the world is so new to him and I am delighted to rediscover nature through his eyes. There’s an older woman at the park. She must be at least two years old because she is walking and speaking to her mom who is focused on making tic toks … millennial parent. The little guy makes eye contact and babbles all his sounds to get her to come over. His charisma is real because she ambles over and they curiously stare and smile, still unsure how to interact. His eyes are so striking; she probably notices but walks away pretending to be unaffected.
What will he be? How will he be? Who will he be? I hope he never loses his carefree and fun persona. Life will throw challenges his way but he has a large supportive family to help navigate his way. ”Saturday’s child has to work for his living” but that’s not necessarily a bad thing as hard work can have great reward. Years ago my father-in-law sat with me one Christmas admiring his grandchildren toddling around. He said to me, “I wish I had enough time to see how they all turn out.” Sadly, he did not, but rest assured Poppi they all turned out to be fine humans; you’d be so proud. I love being my little man’s Jiji and am grateful to be on this journey with him and look forward to seeing how he turns out.
unbecomingjane 