This past year Lynne and I went to a middle of the night birth. This was baby number 3. Mom was in the tub and doing a great job with her labor. Meanwhile, her husband was doing a great job wrangling their 18 month old, who was inexplicably up and fresh as a daisy. Dad went to get something from the kitchen. The toddler looked at mom, then to Lynne, then to me, then started over again. In his mind it connected that Lynne and I were clearly the cause of Mommy’s pain. As she broke out into a moan, he pulled back his hand and said, “NnnnnnOOOOOO!” pointing authoritatively at us.
As Lynne squatted by the pool getting ready to listen to the baby’s heart tones, he ran up, smacked Lynne on the back, and ran down the hall. Lynne looked at me a little dumbfounded as mom finished up her contraction and said, “Oh my God, did my son just hit you? I’m SO SORRY!”
A few hours later, after the baby was out, we were piled onto the bed while I examined Mom to see if she needed stitches. The same little guy ran into the bedroom with a MagLite approximately as big as his arm saying, “I’m gonna help!”
Wow, kids are smarter than we give them credit for. Maybe he heard me commenting that more light would be helpful. But somehow he put together what he thought I needed and went and got it. And he was right.
His protectiveness of Mommy didn’t end there. At her six week checkup my office, I was in the middle of taking Mommy’s blood pressure and heard a muffled, “NnnnnnnOOOO!” and he ran up and shoved me.
At the office I have a cloth pelvis/amniotic sac/baby model. I bought it to demonstrate how the baby’s head position can affect how easily (or not) it can come through the pelvis, among other things. Sometimes I even use it for this purpose. Most of the time, however, the baby doll gets held and carried around the office and otherwise becomes a plaything of the short set.
One morning a three year old orthodox boy was busily putting blocks together and in his concentration took off his yamulke. Some time later he came across the cloth pelvis and put it on his head, looking very proudly at his mother. She said, nonplussed, “Honey, that’s not a yamulke. It’s a pelvis.”
File THAT under sentences you never thought you’d hear.
A mom and I were talking while her two year old looked into the back room. He held up his hand and wagged his finger back and forth saying, “No, no no!!” while looking into the back room. She said, “That’s right, don’t go back there,” then explained to me, “He tells on himself. When he’s thinking about doing something that he thinks he maybe shouldn’t do, he says, ‘No, no, no!'”
I didn’t know toddlers came with that feature. Like, anywhere in the universe.
A mother came in with her 4 and 2 year old daughters. The 2 year old approached the toy bin with a shiny grin in her face. I said, “Hi, buddy!” She looked at me with consternation and said, “I’m not buddy, I’m KAIA!”, not only perturbed that I had interrupted her trek to the toys, but wondering how on earth I got a master’s degree without knowing her name was Kaia.
New story (well, not exactly a story, just funny):
A mom came to a visit without her two year old son, an unusual occurrence. She said he was at Grandma’s. He had informed her he didn’t like going to see the midwife because he didn’t like the bellyphone. To the uninitiated, that would be the doppler used to listen to the baby’s hearbeat.
I have like a MILLION of these kinds of stories. More to come!