ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1995, Roanoke Times
DATE: Monday, December 4, 1995 TAG: 9512050017
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-9 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: Monty S. Leitch
SOURCE: MONTY S. LEITCH
LAST WEEK I had the opportunity to spend an afternoon with a 4-month-old.
She's a sweet baby, but this was our first visit. And neither of her parents was around to introduce us when she awoke from her nap.
And so, although she awoke smiling, she soon became fretful. There she was, in her own house, but without her own people around her. This woman on whose hip she rode might, indeed, be a very nice woman, but how could she be sure? And what if her own people never returned, after all?
I spoke to her as reassuringly as I could. I cuddled her, coddled her, rocked her, bounced her. I walked her back and forth in all the rooms she knew so well, rubbing her back, patting her shoulder. But she continued to fret.
Now, I had assured this baby's parents that I was a wonderful baby-sitter. That I was, although not a mother, a truly terrific aunt. ``We'll be just fine,'' I'd assured her daddy as he left, with a worried look. ``Don't worry about a thing.''
But assurances to the parents were holding no weight with their child. She was definitely worried.
And you know how this can sometimes go: A child so young can start to cry and then forget how to stop.
Finally, I put her in her automatic swing and stepped aside. Not quite out of her line of sight, but far enough away to remove whatever threat I might represent.
The swing played ``Row, Row, Row Your Boat.'' It played ``Rock-a-bye, Baby.'' It played ``Bye, Bye, Blackbird'' and some other tunes I couldn't name. It played and played.
And gradually, my little charge relaxed. Gradually, she calmed herself and dozed off. ``You'll feel so much better after a nap,'' I whispered.
And, indeed, she might have. Had she had a nap. She had only the briefest of dozes, though, before waking herself with a start.
So we walked again. We tried another bottle. We changed her diapers, put on a sweater, took it off, watched a little TV, sang a few off-key songs. Everything worked a little bit. Everything worked for a minute.
But still - who was this woman in her house?
Finally, exhausted, she fell asleep on my chest. I could feel that this time, she was completely relaxed. And I thought to myself, ``I've done it!''
And then I thought about the sense of accomplishment this engendered. About how, among all the senses of accomplishment I've experienced in my life, this particular one - the sense of easing a baby into sleep - might be the greatest. I thought, ``I will write about this very thing; about how good it feels to have a child lie trustingly in your arms.''
Then the phone rang.
And you know what happened.
There went my sense of accomplishment.
All for some fellow who wanted to talk about cleaning the carpets!
So, we started the round all over again. Was she happier on the floor by herself (``I want to be alone!'') or riding on my shoulder? Was she happier on my hip? Left hip or right?
We'll try another bottle, another fresh diaper. We'll take that sweater off. How about this zebra rattle? How about the blue one?
Want a few cartoons? The basketball game? The last half of ``Days of Our Lives''?
What about that wonderful sense of accomplishment? What about that vaunted reputation as aunt?
We'll try you in your crib for awhile. Maybe you'll feel better there.
And that's where she was when Daddy came home. He scooped her up, still wearing his worried look.
``What's the matter, Sweetie?'' he crooned. And she smiled.
Smiled!
He held her up against his chest and then - she smiled at me! Ol' buddy, ol' pal. Ol' Aunty Monty, ol' friend.
Well, at least, next time she'll know me.
If there is a next time, that is.
Monty S. Leitch is a Roanoke Times columnist.
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