Wonderment

When Sadie was a baby, we were living in South Carolina. Evan was in school and so, she and I would go into town and spend time together, as friends. I remember sitting across a table from her, high chair to cafe stool, visiting as I would with any friend, only this conversation was mostly one-sided.

"What do you want to do today?" (Sideways glance from businessman to my left.)

"I was thinking we could go to Waterfront park and watch the dolphins from the pier swings. Does that sound fun?" (Well-dressed woman to my right nudges her lunch partner.)

Those early conversations, although I did most of the talking, were the beginning of many more to come. Sadie and I talk often and now she does most of the talking.
Ella was my more quiet child. Sometimes, Sadie would talk for her. "Ella wants to go to the beach today, Momma." But in those early years, we had the morning, before Sadie had woken up. I would bring Ella to the bed, hold her in my arms, and tell her all the things we hadn't had the chance to talk about the day before, when the busyness of just getting through the day had complicated our moments.

Things have changed and so has Ella. She loves to visit and, given the opportunity, always wants to run errands with me. We play best, worst, and funniest, as she tells what happened at school that day. The best usually involves the people she loves. The worst, teasing or not finishing something. And the funniest is often a had to be there moment that I laugh at anyway.

When Maisy was born everything was so different. In college I studied the correlation between long-term hospitalization and behavior disorders, nature vs. nurture, bonding vs. saving a child's life. There wasn't much I could do about the circumstances of her health or the nature of the situation, but I could do my best to create strong bonds between my sweet baby and I. I had learned how turn-taking plays a part in the concept of conversation. I had learned about the way a mother's voice can soothe and calm, even in-utero. And so I talked and talked; one-sided conversations came easily.

Until recently, Maisy never talked back. We would talk, she would listen. But lately, with a little help from her teacher reports, when she comes home from school, Maisy and I have little conversations, and it is wonderful. I ask the questions, Maisy answers and we both get excited about her new abilities. Evan hears reports of, "Maisy had a good day at school today. She played and ate pizza. They talked about dinosaurs and colored a picture and Miss Emily read her a story."
I love knowing what my kids are up to when they aren't with Mom. If I have to let go for a little while, at least I know that when they come back I will hear all about their adventures. Even if I have to find ways to uncover the wonders of their days.