Baby Talk
by Julia Sneden
The
other day during my morning walk, I met up with a beautiful black
lab puppy, on what appeared to be his first leashed outing. He was
all over the place, sniffing delightedly, following scents from
one edge of the sidewalk to the other, wrapping himself and his
handsome red leash around trees and shrubbery. His master quietly
stopped and disentangled him about six times in the brief moments
as we approached each other.
“Good morning,”
I said as we met. The puppy hurled himself at me, wagging his entire body.
“Aren’t
you just lovely!” I said to him as I rubbed under his chin. He jumped up,
paws flailing in the air.
“No! Down!”
said his master.
“That’s
all right,” I replied as I gently pushed him off, “I’m a dog lover.” The
man looked relieved.
“He has
a few manners yet to learn,” he said. “He’s only 10 weeks old.”
We exchanged
a few pleasantries about the pup, and then continued walking in opposite
directions, me with a foolish grin on my face despite a left knee awash
in puppy drool. I really do love dogs in general, but a puppy is something
extra-special.
Actually, I’m
just a fool for babies, babies of any species. I once spent over two hours
watching a family of lions at the San Francisco zoo, just because I’d fallen
in love with the three cubs. They were absolutely winning creatures.
I’m not alone
in my preference for the young. I believe it was Oliver Herford who wrote:
“The trouble
with a kitten is that
Eventually it becomes a cat.”
(Before I am buried under a ton of outraged mail,
let me say that I admire and respect cats, having shared my home with several
during my lifetime. But grown cats are elegant and independent, and lack
the goofy appeal of kittens).
What is it about
babies that brings us such joy?
Obviously, their
helplessness speaks to the nurturing part of an adult, but that doesn’t
explain the out-and-out burst of delight that many of us feel at the sight
of a baby.
I have heard
people claim that it’s the innocence of the young that is appealing, but
for me that very innocence is also a little sad. After all, think of all
the unpleasant parts of life that lie ahead of them: painful inoculations,
or unkind words from other children, or the common cold, or long homework
assignments, or learning how to lose a game, never mind the big stuff later
on, like money problems, or unfaithful lovers. The innocence of the young
is charming, and doomed.
I think
what I love best about babies is their enthusiasm for learning. Perhaps
it’s the schoolteacher in me that responds to their excitement and endless
curiosity. Even very small babies display an eagerness to know and make
sense of their surroundings. I remember a moment when my granddaughter
was about three weeks old, and I was chattering away as I changed her diaper,
remarking to her that she looks very like her great grandmother.
“Oh,”
I said, wagging my finger at her, “I know those eyes!” She looked back
at me, and suddenly focused on my face. It was a long, steady look. I felt
as if my face were being scanned into a computer, probably not a bad analogy
for what her brain was doing. I am quite sure that she was registering
what she saw, cataloguing me as something interesting even though she couldn’t
yet name it “Grandma.”
Anyone
who has ever really looked at a baby knows that they are hungry for learning
very early on. Having once figured out the relationship between crying
and being fed or held, they quickly move on to figure out what a smile
is, and how to produce it. Their eyes follow their own waving hands, and
they watch and concentrate until they discover how to control and manipulate
them.
Every new discovery
feeds the next one. Their pride, when they achieve a landmark, is palpable.
I remember how my own children, at about 6 months old, first sat up by
themselves, rocking gently on their bottoms, beaming with delight over
the new skill that allowed them to view the world vertically without outside
help.
First words, first
steps, first drawings…the fervor with which our young set out to learn
grabs us around the heartstrings. We remember how it was to be young and
full of the joy of learning, and it seems to us as we watch each infant
that there has never been such beauty and brightness.
Well, as I said, I’m
a fool for babies, any babies, although I confess to being particularly
partial to the ones who call me Grandma. This July, we are feeling especially
blessed because any day now, we’re expecting a new grandchild, a baby boy.
We can hardly wait to see which family he resembles. Will his eyes be brown
or hazel or gray? Will he have red hair like his grandfather and father,
or dark curls like his mother and oldest sister? Will he have his mother’s
beautiful smile, or her love of music and history? Perhaps he’ll inherit
his father’s ability in mathematics, or be an artist like his Grandad,
or a techno-whiz like Greatgrandpa.
It really doesn’t
matter. He will, of course, be just himself. And whoever he is, he’ll
be coming into a family that’s already full of love for him.
Update: Adam Chandler Sneden, 8 lbs 10 oz., was born on July 21st. His father reported that he is a beautiful baby, to which his grandfather replied: “All babies are beautiful.”