When it comes to what is “appropriate” with babies – I’ve found all bets are off. Things that normally are acceptable are not any more, and things that were inappropriate now induce little surprise. For one, if you’re under the age of one you can leave the house without pants on.
And no one notices.
On the other hand, Bolero is not the type of slow-tempo music you want playing the first time you try your baby on solids.
Especially if its Ravel’s.
I’ve been living in this realm of appropriate vs. inappropriate and it is quite enlightening. For one, I’ve seen the promos for “Raising Hope” and I’m convinced there’s a hidden camera in the house which is recording fodder for the new series.
This is probably in the inappropriate column.
On the appropriate side is this odd “replay” button of homilies I’ve heard. I find them creeping up into my daily life even though I listened to them years ago.
One, was on the word Joy (in John). I remember the priest saying the word Joy is one which has a reputation of delight. Which isn’t always true. Joy, he explained, is this raw feeling which comes from anxiety, love, sadness, spirit and elation.
There is this quiet joy with Henry and Sophia – and one which I can’t put my finger on. But what I think is so magical about it is their inability to be a certain word. While I believe its good to talk to babies, I do not believe they understand what I’m saying.
And this is a good thing.
Not that I use their attention to sound off profanities or anything, but more that they are little nutshells of human emotion without knowing what the matching word is.
If I say “be joyful” they don’t know how to act it – they just are.
And this period won't last forever. As they start to learn how language works, this will fade. One of the many things I learned in lit crit is that, for all its positives, language has a heartbreaking quality sometimes.
I have a suspicion that this post makes no sense. Which is just fine.
Just know that my family gives me joy.
Whether its appropriate or not.
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