Starting Strong

Stop me if you’ve heard this one (from me):

Aiden has been off-the-charts cute this month (what’s new?) Unlike all other babies on earth, he has learned to walk, and eat table food, and wave. Uniquely, he kisses us on request, “plays” piano with Yaj and Sher. No other baby who ever lived says “mama” the way he does (also “nana,” and I’m positive he means me). He does this thing where he points to ceiling fans with a dramatic intake of breath (“ooohhhh!!”) as if God created ceiling fans just for his enjoyment.  Can you name another tiny one who does that? Didn’t think so.

I HATE to rub it in, but Aiden is super special. We hit the infant lottery with this guy. Did I tell you he carries the TV remote with him everywhere, and knows how to use it? Well, at least to turn the TV on to the “static” channel? And also he puts random objects up to his ear (even pieces of paper) à la iPhone, whenever we say to him “Helloooo”?

Helloooo?

I know, I know. Baby Einstein. But we’re waiting to apply to Harvard until he’s in kindergarten, because we want to be fair to everyone else.

Aiden is carried aloft, daily, on a magic carpet of love. His incredible parents have given him such a great foundation, teaching him that the world is a beautiful place of endless possibilities. Ya-Jhu reminds him that he is never far from her arms, her comfort. Sheridan teaches him that Daddy can be a goofball, making the MOST bizarre faces at him, crawling around with him as if he, too, (a 31 year old man), is still a toddler at heart. His aunts and uncles shower him with affection and attention. Grandpa Steve rates “pick me up” gestures (when said Grandpa is working on the tempting computer).

My heart breaks wide open when I hear of babies who are hurt, abused or neglected. These are the most vulnerable of all humans. But some parents just can’t do it. They are stretched beyond the breaking point with mental health issues, with severe financial woes. And so we hear of the tragedies. I’ve heard people say, “You need a license to drive, but not a license to be a parent.” And it’s true.

I can speak as the mother of five children, who for the first seven years of marriage didn’t want children. I waited until I was emotionally ready to nurture a child from conception to—well ,let’s face it, till forever. It’s a life sentence, this parenting thing, and not everyone can, or should, attempt it.

And so I rejoice that my little Mushroom (I know, I know, I am the queen of cringe-worthy nicknames) is here and is so loved by so many. And I pray that every baby coming into this crazy mixed up world is a wanted baby, a cherished baby. They deserve no less.

So happy 15 month birthday! Love you, Mushroom!

So much love!