Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Blessed are the dumfounded...
Just home after a very happy day with the Grandbaby of my Heart (so far, the ONLY Grandbaby, though that is due to change soon), and her parents...naptimes and playtimes and feedings and bath and bedtime, and in with that delightful lunch and supper, and much good conversation.
Grandbaby is in the process of shifting her schedule of eating and sleeping. She is being gently encouraged to move to TWO substantial naps per day, away from three or more catnaps. Homoeostasis being still in effect, there is resistance to this benevolent request for change. So what with that, and with being not quite six months old, and the natural challenges of the time of day between 5 pm and 7 pm (aka "Hell Hour"), Grandbaby was becoming a bit of a small BEAR by the time supper was over.
She didn't want to jump in the Jolly Jumper, she didn't want to sit in her high-chair, she didn't want to lie on her play-mat. There was fussery. There were aggrieved noises. There were small squawks of existential ennui (I presume).
So her Papa took her over to the piano, held her in the crook of one arm, and began to play Bach, mostly with one hand; sometimes he could manage the second hand for a bar or two.
First thing was she hushed TOTALLY and stopped wiggling and struggling. Total concentration and stillness.
And then I looked at her face. And with small regular tilts of her head, she was looking first up at the music on the music rack, and then down at the keyboard. Then back at the music, then back at the keyboard, at her Papa's hands and what they were doing. Back and forth, over and over, regular as a metronome.
As I said, not six months old until mid-month (and born five weeks early at that).
I have come home feeling more than somewhat staggered. What on earth have we here???