Time has flown by, our newest addition (a baby GIRL), is almost six months old and our baby boy turned two in April. I am trying to soak everything in: their eyes (his are blue and her’s are brown- like mine and my mother’s), their mouths, their reaction to when Daddy or I enter a room or talk to them, their laugh, their hands and fingers…like most any mom, I could go on and on. Most of the time though I feel like I am failing at this.
There is so much about my son as a baby that I seem to draw a blank on. On several occasions I have panicked because I can’t picture his full face as an infant. When I look at photos I still lack the memory of physically being there in that moment. But, something I do remember very vividly was when he first discovered his hands. It would make me laugh because it was like he thought they were the most amazing things EVER. He would be laying across my lap and clasp his hands together. He would hold such a tight grip, bring them center in front of his face and just stare at them – to the point that his fingers would change color from the pressure and his eyes would look crossed. It was as though he knew how important they were and he now knew that somehow, someway he could control them.
His hands are undeniably the hands of a boy. They are big, strong and constantly moving. His nails are always dirty from either playing in the yard, coloring, “cleaning” (with a wet wipe, paper towel, burp rag – whatever) or eating his favorite snack (other than milk of course) – “Fuuuuute”! The inside creases of his fingers are usually gummed up with sweat, food and mysterious lint. During the course of a day he will reach out to us countless times and say (in a tone I recognize as asking) “Hand” and wait for us to give him our hand so he can lead us to whatever it is he wants to show us…which is usually to the refrgierator for “Meeiiilk” or “Fuuuute” 🙂 They can be aggressive when he is playing with his cars or gentle when is he touching “Sissshe’s” head.
When he is tired or needs some quiet time he will use his fingers to absentmindedly play with a blanket, drawstring on his shorts, the soft ear of a stuffed animal. His hands are something he can control. They are a step toward his independence. He uses them communicate, play, eat and comfort himself. I look at them while he turns the pages of his book and we read together and I am in awe of their dexterity and coordination. For two years he has reached out to us and held on to us with those hands. We have watched his use of them evolve and expand. They are amazing and it is our goal as his parents to help him grow to do incredible work with them.