Daniel. What a interesting baby he
was. When he arrived twenty-five years
ago, little did I know that the “blank slate” theory I’d studied in psychology class
was about to be exposed as an absolute farce. His big sister Aimee was almost two and a
half, so I knew the baby ropes. All
things pertaining to babies had been understood and conquered, I figured. But looking back, an element of Daniel’s
personality was evident before Daniel was even born. Aimee had catapulted around my insides like a
gymnast,whereas Daniel rarely moved.
When he did, it was in slow motion.
There were times when I seriously wondered if he was OK in there.
Once he entered the wider world, we were treated to a newborn
that actually slept! So, his lethargic incubation
period had been a foreshadowing of perks to come!
Score. Little Aimee hadn’t been much
interested in wasting her initial months in dreamland.
As a baby, Aimee had nursed voraciously; Daniel was as
uninterested in nursing as Aimee had been in sleeping. Aimee was happy to be held by just about
anyone, but Daniel didn’t want to be held by others. He
sucked his thumb and clung to a blankie.
Aimee clung to me or her Dad. We
jostled her and tossed her about to keep her entertained. I remember making dinner with her on my hip,
because she was so unhappy when she wasn’t in my arms. A concept formed in my mind-- Daniel found ways
to comfort himself but Aimee demanded to be comforted by others. Yes, he wasn’t a clone of Aimee--he had his
own personality and his own way of doing things.
This fact was highlighted the afternoon Daniel disappeared. He was less than a year and a half old. We lived in a flat, so there weren’t many
places in which to get lost. I glanced
up from whatever I was doing, and he was just gone. I looked behind the furniture in the room,
checked out the enclosed front porch a few feet away, sped through the dining
room, twisting my head this way and that, scoped out the kitchen, and headed
down the back hallway to the bathroom and bedrooms. I can’t tell you how amazed I was to enter
little Daniel’s tiny bedroom and find him fast asleep in his crib! What? He
must have decided in his wee mind, “Hey—I’m tired—think I’ll patter down the
hall on my baby feet and climb up into my crib for a nap.” My astonishment was complete. That he and his sister were not cut from the
same cloth was now crystal clear to this mother. No wonder he cried when I tried to rock him
to sleep. That method had worked with Aimee
because she needed outside stimulation and connection. As a matter of fact, we tell stories to this
day of how hard it was to get her to sleep in her crib. She would fall asleep with her father holding
her and when he tried to unload her into the crib, she’d immediately awaken and
start to fuss. He took to laying her
down as if his arms were a forklift—with her riding on top like a “load.” He’d lean over to put her in her crib, then
press his arms down into the mattress and try to gently pull them out before
she noticed they were no longer holding her.
It rarely worked. It was an
ongoing battle to get her to sleep alone in her bed. Daniel didn’t want any of that mess—he just wanted
to be left alone when he was tired! Amazing! As each day passed, the differences between
the two became more evident and I realized it was fun getting to know this unique
addition to our family.
Happy Birthday, Daniel.
