Sunday, January 27, 2013

"I'm baby sick and I feel like I want to cry. . ."

Last night, I was tucking Skye into bed when she asked me to sing her a lullaby I used to sing to her when she was a baby. She explained in a six-year old's semantics that she was "baby sick" and felt like she wanted to cry because she missed being a baby. That nearly brought tears to my own eyes and rendered any singing nearly impossible because of the lump in my throat. Her simple, meaningful way of explaining how she felt, along with her prescribed cure of singing to her was profound and struck something visceral in my being.

When she was a baby, I sang her a medley of songs nearly every night until she was probably four years old. My versions of "Hush Little Baby," "Lullaby and Goodnight," "Animal Crackers in my Soup," "Thy Word," and "Angels" would fill her room with soothing sounds, sung to the rhythm of her rocker. Each note I sung brought heavier eyelids and eventually, I would hear the deep, rhythmic cadence of her breathing as she slipped into sleep. It was such a special time for both of us. I would memorize the shape of her face, the length of her body in relation to my own, and how she fit perfectly like a second skin in my arms. I loved the smell of her hair and skin, which would perfume the room with the scent of Johnson's & Johnson's shampoo and lavender lotions. 
Skye will always be my baby girl (shown here the day of her Christening, October 2006)

That time seems like so long ago and I don't know when the songs became prayers instead. A few "old school" parents solemnly warned me about rocking her to sleep every night, saying how important it was for her to "self-soothe." I decided, perhaps selfishly, that I needed those quiet moments with her more than I needed to follow someone else's idea of what good parenting was. And now as I see her channeling Katy Perry and Alicia Keys, I'm glad I made that choice. Today, I listen to her aspiring to be a pop star, dentist, veterinarian, pediatrician, and car wash attendant all within in the same week and her zeal for life and passion for living it is infectious. And I know I'll always have those precious memories to turn to when she's off doing her own thing.

I love how she put into simple words how she was feeling last night. Sometimes, I don't realize I'm "baby sick" until I've muddled through a week of a bad moods and struggled to maintain my composure as an employee and a wife and a mother. My realization that I'm yearning for my mother's voice and soothing touch is buried under days that are peppered with conference calls, play dates, martial arts classes, and making school lunches. Yet here Skye was, completely in tune with her feelings. I'm sure it's because she's so close to that age of complete dependence and attachment and my songs still resonate in her heart. And I'm so glad they do.

As she continues to grow up and her single-digit birthdays turn into double-digit milestones, I pray that she's always in touch with her feelings and finds healthy ways of soothing the times she's "baby sick." And while I still have her at home, I'll comfort her on those baby-sick days with the intimate soundtrack born from our first moments of mother-daughter bonding.