Jan.
14, 2000 - Friday
I was holding Harry this morning, while his mother was otherwise disposed, and
looking into his face trying to offer him the typical "stimulating interactive
experience." I copied the little noises he'd make, then altered them slightly
with different vowel sounds. Harry seemed only fleetingly curious so I sang
a little song. I've been singing and playing guitar for Harry for as long as
he's been a glimmer in our hearts and a bump in his mother's belly, so I'd like
to think that my voice is a sound he's comfortable with in some way or another.
But still, Harry caught me off guard, as babies have an uncanny way of doing.
As I started singing my song - Paul Simon's El Condor Pasa - Harry smiled. Naturally,
I expected the normally subsequent cycle of expressions or squirming that indicate
a preoccupation with some physiological process, but none came. I continued
to sing and Harry smiled again. I was putty.
Now, I don't really know whether Harry was really pleased by my song or if his
face was just moving randomly, but it hardly matters. New parents read so much
into their babies thoughts, attributing so much of their own likes and desires,
that each baby expression can represent potential for happy moments for years
to come. The possibility that I could make my child happy with and, moreover
that he would enjoy, a pleasure of mine was all that seemed to matter in the
world at that moment - even if it was just gas.
In another typical parenting moment, today Harry all of a sudden woke up screaming.
He's never done that before and, mercifully, it didn't last very long. But,
his mother and I spent a good deal of emotional capital trying to read into
more of Harry's thoughts: did mother eat something he didn't like, was there
something wrong, was he too hungry, too sleepy, and on and on. Fortunately,
Harry seemed to forget about it fairly quickly.
