look! there I am! Juniper was sleeping in *the lovely swing* and she started to wail pitifully, so I ran over. Her eyes were still closed-she was having a little baby nightmare (hopefully not about our bad parenting) so I started stroking her head and saying soothing things to her. She woke up a little, saw me, gave a little smile and fell back asleep. Do you know how fucking good that felt? It is so nice to be so important to this wonderful, perfect little person. It gives meaning to life. I never knew how much I would love being a mom, and I'm so glad I don't have to work so that Juniper and I can just hang out together all day, and she can know that I will always be there for her. I hope we're not screwing her up too bad, though. I keep hearing and reading about how much a baby's brain is assimilating at this point in Juniper's development, and I must say we put a lot of crap out there for her to assimilate. I got to laughing so hard because Bill was poking her nose and saying "Bing! Meow. Bing! Meow," over and over again. What is she learning from that experience? I mean, I'm not one of these parents who is going to start hammering her with the flashcards at the age of two months-or ever, for that matter, what a crappy way to learn- but I just wonder how she is going to turn out. For one thing, Bill always has the TV on when he is around, and the flashy lights and annoying noises of that device are captivating to a little baby. TV speaks to a very primal level of our consciousness, obviously (and says, to that primal monkey, "BUY OUR STUFF OR YOU WILL HAVE NO SEX NO FOOD NO FIRE FOR WARMTH. OOGA OOGA"). And, since we don't have cable, it is always on Judge Judy, some TV psychic, or an infomercial for Pilates. That can't be educational. Also, Bill smokes a lot of weed and, at first, I made him go to the back room so as not to smoke it around the baby, but I realized that when I made him do that I never saw him. So I let him back into the living room and, not that I believe Nancy Regan and all the DARE bullshit but I have to wonder if she'll turn out like one of those spacy stupid stoner kids. Or wait, she'll probably turn out like me, who I'm sure was exposed to ample marijuana smoke, both in utero and through breastmilk, etc. So I guess I just have a fear of her turning out like me? That is a valid fear. I'm reading this entry and thinking I am stupid. But I guess self-discovery is a good reason to be keeping this diary. |