So I just had this memory. Five minutes ago I was sitting on the couch, remote balanced on my tummy, watching some Primetime hidden camera special (there is seriously nothing on TV tonight). Suddenly, I got a little abdominal muscle twitch and the remote started to bounce up and down. And I had this memory...
When I was pregnant the same thing happened. I had the remote on my ever-growing stomach, and suddenly the baby kicked and the remote bobbed over my belly like a boat on a stormy sea (appropriate image given my nonstop "morning" sickness - did I mention I puked on every major holiday from Christmas to St. Patty's Day that year? More than once on most of them?). But when it happened the first time, it was so surprising and delightful that I was absolutely transfixed. Doc hubby and I sat on the sofa, watched the remote bob up and down, and giggled and gawked.
I remember people talking about this concept of "Baby TV"...that when your baby is born you are so totally mesmerized by her that you just sit for hours and watch her little face like TV. This seemed not only inconceivable to me...but honestly, totally boring. I figured, you know, you love your kid and all, but to stare at her for hours? Really?
So then I got pregnant, and then the remote started flopping around on my belly, and then I found myself staring at that for maybe not hours, but certainly long minutes on end. And I thought to myself, "if I spend this much time watching a small, battery-powered device bobbing on my belly....maybe that whole idea of baby TV isn't so far off base.
The baby took two steps today. On her own. I haven't written much about this...my 17 month old doesn't walk on her own, and while it kinda freaks me out, she has her crazy strengths and I just think we're all geniuses in our own way and walking early isn't her way. But I have been embarrassed to take her to music class or on playdates lately because I'm afraid people will look at me funny and tell me I need to have her checked out. My mom is an early childhood specialist. So I have kind of had her checked out. And she cruises like a champ and walks with a walker all the time and walks holding on to only one of my fingers. I feel in my heart that she's fine. She's just cautious and she lives in a really small apartment and she doesn't like to fall down. I'm all those things too. I get it. We have many of the same other strengths and so I appreciate her. I said to my friend Katie the other day, "well she still isn't walking..." and Katie said, "yeah but she's writing her memoirs, isn't she?" Which is sorta true. She also hits herself in the head when she gets mad. See I'm afraid even to write this because I fear I'll get all kinds of comments from people saying "Yeah my kid didn't walk and hit herself in the head when she got mad and she went crazy and lives in a yurt and I never see her..." Or much worse. Yurts are pretty green and all. I could get behind a yurt...
Anyway, when she took the two steps I totally started to cry. I was ridiculously proud of her. And she sort of didn't seem to notice that she did it. She immediately fell and she didn't like that at all. And she was transfixed by her bottle and "Pinky Dinky Doo" (yes I also let my 17 month old watch some TV...more comments here we come...). I think that's why it happened, honestly. She's just her own schedule and her own person and all that makes me a little weepy.
Because she used to just be a remote bouncing around on my belly.