I’m one of those — a person whose memories have seemingly come from old photos and home movie footage.  It is challenging to call up a vivid memory under the age of five.  Or to know what motives propelled me.  I am a clean slate when it comes to knowing how a baby thinks.

Fantastically, life has bestowed on me, four cherub faced (can’t keep my eyes and hands off of) BABIES, grandees.  And, I admit, I intend to grant their every desire.  I am a slave.  I say YES.
Through my cloudy observation, I am not interested in the possibility that they know this and act accordingly.
Did you know they call me ‘Neemah’?  Honestly, who else feels this way about being in my lap?

And it comes to my mind, this is not new behavior.  Happily, willing, I search for ways to bring a belly laugh and toothless smile to the BABIES gracing my path.

As an oldest child, the BABY in our family arrived 12 years after me.  The entire clan rallied and clapped at every milestone, spent hours hunting for his ‘Piece’ of security blanket, bestowed him with the gifts we imagined he would love, spears included.  Yes, as in ‘spears’ that jab.  He just smiled, never really had to ask and did his job of looking adorable.  What did he think?  He had us.  We loved our BABY, we still do and apparently this is his inherent birthright.

How about being the mother of a BABY?  My third child and second son arrived in a timely unhurried fashion on Labor Day after spending the summer as a beach ball.  Let’s talk about easy going.  It rarely occurred to him to look both ways while crossing the street, or to consider the dangers of going in water over his head, or what might happen when playing hockey in the living room.  He was surrounded by watchful loving eyes, an ever present family to adore him, protect him and save his very life,  if necessary.  He was free to be our BABY.  We were learning the conventions the rest of us followed were overrated and besides, our BABY was special.  He looks to us and we respond.  Does he expect this from us?  We don’t know and frankly, as I stated earlier we don’t care.  He is our King BABY.  It is part of him.  Cannot be changed.

Does the innocent state of the BABY return? This year, I watched my grandson have an animated conversation with an invisible phone. And, a few months later, tenderly witnessed our dad attempt to dial up a buddy on the TV remote with similar wonderment.

BABIES.  Understand their purpose; they are here to teach us about love.