sigh. (part one)

As Isabelle and I were goofing in the tub last night, it occurred to me just how vulnerable and impressionable children are. Not that I hadn't already realized this, but it struck me with an unnerving force tonight. The girl hardly has any hair and doesn't go to the bathroom in diapers, so in nearly ten months of baths, this is the first time that we had used a whole bottle of bath wash. Of course, all bottles are destined to become toys.

I watched her fascination as the water bubbled up inside the bottle and saw her curiosity veer towards frustration as she tried to grasp the stream of water I was pouring. She thought she could grab it with her pincer grip, like the strands of yarn I pass her way (her knitting!) and could not quite fathom what was happening with this water string.

In that moment it struck me so hard. How can I possibly show her everything the world has to offer? What else is she missing out on simply because I have not yet thought to introduce her to it? What am I getting into, thinking I can unschool her successfully? Yes, she'll lead me at times and I'll lead her at times, but even in the scope of my tiny world there are already things that never even cross my mind to show her.

I'm not often without her, and when it's not me, it's Dave. On the occasions we're without her,she usually comes home with a new taste of food, a new favorite game. Sometimes she goes months without interacting with another baby. I can tell she inherently recognizes their similarities. When she hears a baby or a child across the room, she whips around to look for him. But she's an observer in the fullest sense of the word.

The baby we met at the library the other day (a full three days younger than Bella) ran circles around Isabelle, yammering and crawling and pulling on her toes. And Bella just watched, engaged and enthralled, but all from her little spot on the floor. Would she be crawling if she saw other babies who crawled? Would she be interacting if she met up with other babies more? What kinds of things am I inadvertently keeping from her, simply because they do not occur to me?

One day as a nanny I was watching a baby who was on the verge of walking, but protested because crawling was so much more efficient and he didn't need to depend on anyone to do it. We went to the park in the summer and his sister ran onto the black top. He crawled after her, but the second he got on the black top, he realized it was hot and started to cry. I boosted him to his feet and said, That's why we walk, silly, and I saw it click as he eagerly put one foot in front of the other and reached his sister. I remember the look of mingled heartbreak and awe on his mothers face when she walked in the door to find the three of us parading around on our two feet. Her words were, I leave for half an hour and when I come back you're walking?

It only takes an instant for babies to change. All they need is the exposure, but our life is fairly simple and adventures seem a bit infrequent. Bella is certainly teaching me to find something new everyday, or to look at it in a new way, and I hope I can pay her back by returning the favor.