Since then, I've rummaged through our stored stash of gifts from friends and found a couple balls. Tonight he happily migrated back and forth from his big wooden play box to a couple of balls. At one point, he picked up one of them then pointed at it and made a sound that (to a prejudiced, fond mother's ear) sounded like, "What's that?" (aka "da TA?")
I pretended he'd asked a question and answered slowly, "Baaalll. That's a ball. Baaaalll."
He looked at me solemnly and slowly enunciated (tone for tone), "Baaaww". I repeated, "Baaaalll", he looked at me, "Baaaawwl". Now, technically, if I do rasberries at him, he does them back so I'm not convinced it isn't just mimicry. We'll see if he says anything close to a "B" sound when he plays with them tomorrow.
The funny thing is that I look at him and feel like I've known him for years. It's still a bit strange to me that he can't talk or walk. It's like, some part of me thinks he's just wearing a baby suit and pretending. Don't fret, I'm not pushing him to be more than he is, it's just this odd sensation when I'm around him. If I believed in reincarnation, I could latch onto the whole 'old soul' thing. I've never had a baby of my own before, so perhaps it always feels like this for Moms. Among all the conversations about cracked nipples, thrush, crazy diapers, all-nighters and other Mothering Lore I've heard over the years, I've never heard this one talked about. Am I the odd one out on this?
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Sometimes, it feels like our little guy has always been in our lives. Just this morning as we were enjoying some mama-son time, I asked him how we came to get such an incredible kid in our family. He replied, "God." So then I asked him if he remembered meeting God before coming to us (that's one of my big wonderings - when does a soul get created?). He said he didn't. But when he was younger and I'd ask him that, he said he remembered.
I'm not certain if all moms get to this point where it feels like their children have always been a part of them. It will be interesting to hear what other people say.
No, you're not odd. But, reconsidering, maybe you are. Your Mother called you "Little Grandmother". You regularly put things in order in ways that surprised us. Example: When you were still under two years, we were at the big laundromat up in Clifton. The washer doors were all open. You walked down the line and shoved each washer door shut.
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