Babies

I had forgotten how tiny a newborn is. My new grandson swims in the smallest onesie. He waves his little fists in the air, not yet coordinated enough to get them to his mouth to suck except by chance. He scrunches up his eyes and opens his mouth to search for the nipple. His vulnerability melts my heart.

He already made his first trip to the library. Big Sister has been part of a play group/story time there since she was five months old. Baby Brother beat her--he was only three-days old his first trip to the library. He is not yet choosing his own books to check out, but Big Sister freely quotes Masie and Curious George.

I am an early riser, and the added incentive of jet-lag from my recent return from Africa has had me downstairs at the computer long before others rise (except when I find Mommy and Baby doing the early-morning feeding thing and have the chance to send Mommy back to bed.) One morning I had been up for several hours when I heard the pitter-patter of little feet on the hardwood floor and a cheerful, high-pitched "Morning, Grammie!" That was special since normally Big Sister wants only Mommy in her drowsy waking moments.

Daddy has taken a couple weeks of paternity leave, a twenty-first century privilege. Yesterday he was seen holding the baby with one arm, balancing the bottle with his chin while typing on the computer with his free hand.

I think of the pregnant teen Imelda introduced us to in Alex. Will her baby have two healthy parents or will Daddy abandon them and Mommy sicken and die? Will he have enough food in that tiny shack by the open drain? Will the girl's father I met be a model of strength and self-control or will he exert his power to drink away their small income and beat his family? I saw no books in the home. It will be a miracle if his mother gets him a library card. Will he go to one of the creches I have visited where loving teachers read and sing with the children and prepare them for school in a challenging new world? Maybe he will attend Saturday's Cool and catch an enthusiasm for learning. What kind of chance will he have in twenty-first century Africa? I wish I knew. I am grateful for those like my friend Ruth and her colleagues who are working day-by-day in small ways to make a difference in his life.