Not so fast, Baby
Lori Borgman | Monday, Mar 08, 2010
We are not so naïve that we don’t realize we may be biased when it comes to
our grandbaby. Although, we do believe everyone in the world would agree she is
the most beautiful, brilliant, marvelous, delightful baby ever born.
When her weight and height fell to the 10th percentile on the growth chart,
but her head remained in the 70th percentile, we said, “Fabulous! Wonderful! She
needs a big head for that big brain. She’s going to be an Einstein or a Madame
Curie!”
When the
baby began scooting across the floor, tossing aside her own plush toys, which
were allergy-free and crafted for sensitive-skin, in favor of the dog’s toys --
a stuffed opossum, tattered squirrel and mangy skunk -- we said, “Astounding!
The baby has a sixth sense for the animal world. The baby is going to be a Dr.
Doolittle!”
When the
baby attempted to put absolutely everything within reach into her mouth,
including her own feet, the corners of rugs and daddy’s shoes, we said,
“Amazing! Such a sense of curiosity. The baby is going to be an explorer and discover great things!”
When the
baby tooled over to the dining room table and chairs and left bite marks on the
chair legs, we said, “Look at that! A craftsman! The baby has a taste for
woodworking!”
When the
baby would no longer hold still for a diaper change, but twist and squirm and
weasel away, we said, “What agility! What form! The baby will be a gymnast one
day! Or a great ballerina!”
When the
baby could pull herself up by the stereo and rock out to “La Bamba” swaying back
and forth, shaking her head, “singing” along, screaming “AEEEEEEEEEEEEE” at a
pitch that set dogs howling, we said, “Why, of course! The baby will be a
musician! A composer! A choreographer!”
When the
baby was at her Wiggle Worms class and crawled over to a little boy next to her
and planted a wet one on his cheek, slobbering and plastering drool all over the
side of his face, we said, “Astonishing! The baby has unbelievable interpersonal
communication skills!”
When the baby sat up and turned her head whenever she heard the theme music
on the Weather Channel, and did not tire of the punishing monotony, we simply
looked at one another.
When the baby went to her other Grandpa and Grandma’s house in the country,
where they have several dogs, and the dogs lined up at feeding time and the baby
crawled in line behind them, the room was quiet.
When the baby had gathered a large admiring crowd of grandparents, aunts and
uncles and friends of the family and shoved her little finger up her little
nose, no one said a thing.
When the baby did it again and again, deviating from the routine only to
stick her little finger in her little ear, the crowd was still stunned.
“Oh my,” someone finally said, breaking the silence.
“Goodness,” muttered another.
“The baby is going to be a, um, a, the baby is going to be a –“
“BABY!” everyone said.
