I’ve learned another trade secret Moms keep tucked close to
their hearts.
I’ve learned another trade secret Moms keep tucked close to their hearts.
After you have a baby, you get to act like a kid again.
I made this happy realization one recent afternoon hen I found myself singing at the top of my lungs the third verse of “We’re going to the Zoo” while dancing around in our living room.
Did I mention I was holding my 8-and-a-half-month-old daughter at the time?
Emma has given me permission to be unapologetically goofy when I want. Just last week, I caught myself crossing my eyes and blowing raspberries at her across the supermarket checkout aisle. And I didn’t even bat an eye when the courtesy clerk looked at me curiously before chuckling.
Making silly faces, breaking out in song and other public shenanigans I never would have dreamt of doing before I had our daughter, I now do on a routine basis.
It’s as if holding or even being in the vicinity of a child gives one a free pass to turn back the clock – way back.
Of course, Emma is my inspiration. When I see her clapping and be-bopping to music, I can’t help but pick her up and prance around our family room.
When I hear her babbling I have to babble back, echoing her strings of consonants and vowels.
And a couple days ago, I found us lying on our backs stretched out on a canvas cloth in our backyard watching the birds swoop and circle overhead.
Sometimes I just sit back and watch Emma in awe. She crawls around our family room in pursuit of our mini Dachsie, Lucy, who grips a bright yellow ball in her tiny jaw.
They like to play one of their favorite games: switch the toy. Emma pulls herself up next to the couch and snatches Lucy’s chewy ball while Lucy picks up Emma’s squishy bath toy and trots away.
Emma’s on the move all day, crawling speedily around our house, pulling herself with steely determination, stopping only long enough to down a Sippy cup and throw it over her shoulder like a sprinter.
I try to keep up, scooting after her, then downing a quick cup of coffee before throwing her over shoulder and tossing her in the air.
She lets out a hearty belly laugh, my favorite sound.
I look forward to hours of daydreaming, finger painting and story telling with her. In Emma, not only do I have a daughter, but I also have a lifetime playmate.
I can see us lunching over tea parties, riding bikes and sleeping in a fort under the stars in our future.
I can take this play business one step further and buy her all the cool stuff I never got as a kid. Like a Snoopy Sno Cone Machine. Do you remember those? Or an Easy Bake Oven.
But a scary thought occurred to me the other day: What happens when Emma outgrows play hour? What happens when she chooses sulking in her room over blowing bubbles and tumbling in the backyard?
I’ll just have to drag her outside and remind her of the joys of being a kid. After all, she’s the one who taught me.
Kelly Barbazette lives in Gilroy with her husband, Chris, daughter, Emma, and miniature dachshund. She is the owner of Write Now, a copywriting and public relations company in Gilroy. She can be reached at kb*********@***oo.com.
