Aimee has entered the stage where she entertains herself by speaking her little baby language. I get such a kick out of hearing her and I imagine that she must think it's so cool that she can affect the environment around her by making noise. If her sounds could paint a picture, her coos would look like silky pastel colored ribbons drifting, twisting, and falling through the air like feathers. Her delightful squeals would push them right back up, so they'd never hit the floor and her laugh would punctuate the air with brightly colored confetti.
Along with the sweet laughs and cooing, she is learning that she can express her frustration and discomfort in ways other than her usual little baby cry. She has learned to have tantrums. Yes. Over the past few days her rhythmic "waa-waa's" have turned into bratty, toddler-like, middle of the store "why can't I have this candy bar" screams. What would her screams look like? Well, to be honest, I'm so amused that she is learning different ways to express herself...and that she is showing her personality...and that she is acting like me... that I haven't decided what it would look like.
However, this development in her personality has made me step back and realize a few things.
When she was going through her hours long crying sessions for the first 2 months of her life, I felt like she was spinning our world out of control. Her cries filled the room, and in my mind, this little 10 pound baby was really an untamable Goliath. What would soothe this savage beast? I frantically tried everything within the first 60 seconds. Is she hungry/ wet /cold /hot? Should I rock her? Bounce her? Sing to her? Feed Her? Lay her down? Where's Brian? Where's my mom? Where are the books I've read? Someone Help me!
So one day, my father in law came over and Aimee was having a hard day. She wouldn't stop crying, but he just held her calmly. Talking to her and walking her. After checking to make sure all of her needs were met, He just supportively let her cry, and after a while she just stopped. His zen-like state and superpower soothing skills perplexed me. Then he casually made a comment that changed the way I saw Aimee during these hard times. "She's just a little baby and this is her way of communicating."
"How could I forget that?" I asked myself. I guess that in my quest to make her stop crying, I had forgotten that she is a little person and that when we aren't feeling well, we sometimes just want someone to listen and understand what we are going through. A few weeks later, I discovered a book called, "Secrets of the Baby Whisperer: How to calm, connect, and communicate with your baby". This further reinforced the idea that a baby's cry is her voice. I learned to appreciate her cries and to be supportive of her. So now, when she has a crying fit, I calmly hold her and listen to her complaining that I didn't put her in a crib for her nap soon enough and now she's overly tired. I know that when she's done "talking" to me, she will fall into a peaceful sleep, knowing that her mom was there for her and that I listened to everything she wanted to say.
