I have spent roughly one month nannying for a darling little girl named Claire. She has a button nose, sparkling blue eyes, and wild blond hair that curls into ringlets. Sometimes she seems like a delightful little angel sent from heaven. And sometimes it's like the Devil himself has possessed her. I'd like to share some insights into the psyche of a little person, if I may. These are observations and are not by any means researched or supported by proof or statistics. But dealing with a little girl for one month gives me the authority to dispense such wisdom, and thus, I do so now.
Babies leak. They cry, they drool, they poop, pee, and their noses run constantly. If you think you've got one of these problems covered, soon another one will appear. If they cry, their nose probably runs as well. Once fixed, another orifice will inevitably begin dripping. And heaven forbid they have a cold, which Claire has had for the past week, because they'll cry, cough, their nose will run, and they'll feel so miserable that they will not sleep.
Babies cannot talk. This should be obvious, right? Well, what I mean is, they cannot make coherent phrases which becomes very frustrating when they are crying for no apparent reason. Claire does speak. She calls everything "Daddy" whether it belongs to her father or not. She knows three noises animals make... barely. She has her own language that goes something like, "Shussh shussh. Deeeeeeee. OoooooH! Yes. Daaaaaaa deeee. Meh? Tesssh?" She's about 18 months and I keep repeating words at her: "Is that a DOG? Show me your puppy, Claire. Yes, that's your DOG, isn't it? What does a DOGGIE say?" to which she replies "bwoooooo bwoooo bwooooo" which... is close enough? Right? She's very smart; she'll show you what she wants, she points, she's mischievous, she mimics her mom, she will do what I tell her to, and she'll complete the task correctly. But she can't speak English. And I really want her to! I keep hoping she'll have one of her first real words when I'm there and how proud I'll be. What fun - a baby learning to speak coherently! But alas, all my wanting is for naught as of yet.
Babies are very particular, strange creatures of habit. I suppose adults are too. But it's interesting to see how habits form in little children and how they are reinforced or rewarded. Before Claire goes to bed, she must have her two favorite blankets, and she must be holding the white care tags that are sewn into these blankets. I don't know why, but she holds them and strokes them, and if she doesn't have them in her hands, she searches the blankets for them until she finds them. Her favorite movie is Mary Poppins and every time the penguins come on TV, she smiles, giggles, struggles to get on the floor and march with them.
However, after all these queer little notions I have observed, I really enjoy hanging out with her. She's so much fun (when she's not screaming and crying at the top of her lungs)! The last couple times I've come over, she's left her mother's arms, held her arms out to me and asked to be picked up. The first time she did that, it was such an endearing feeling, it warmed my womanly hormonal heart. It almost made my biological clock start to tick. Almost. During these last times, she's not cried when her mother left, but been perfectly calm as if she trusts me and knows we'll play and have a good time together. So for now, I'm very content with trying to keep a baby girl satisfied, happy, even! and alive for five hours at a time. I love playing with her and making her giggle and watching her discover new books and objects and playthings. For now, I'm completely content with this. Keeping a child alive, healthy, and happy for 18+ years is a completely different matter, something that scares the crap out of me. Give me 3-5 years and then maybe, maybe then, I'll feel together enough to handle this major life changing little person taking over my life.
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