The Universality of Babies

Last night we watched the movie, “Babies”. The film is a fascinating – and almost entirely wordless – documentary following four babies from different parts of the world through their first year or so of life.

The opening of the film shows a close-up of a heavily pregnant mother in Namibia grinding berries to make a kind of red dye that she uses to paint her belly. We see a seconds-old baby, still connected to her mother by her umbilical cord, in a modern hospital in Tokyo. We see an hours-old baby in San Francisco, hooked up to tubes and monitors in another modern hospital. And we see a days-old baby being tightly swaddled in blankets and tucked in his mother’s arms as she climbs onto the back of a motorbike, apparently for the trip back to her home in Mongolia.

As the movie progresses, each group of scenes seems to have a kind of a theme: how the babies eat, how the babies interact with their siblings and parents and pets, the various environmental dangers that the babies face. Some groups of scenes are remarkably similar, and some are literally worlds apart. We see each baby being fed by its parents – in three cases, being nursed by a mother, and in the fourth, being given a bottle by a father. The details may be different – the Namibian mother, for example, nurses her baby while sitting in the dirt, leaning over him to grind grain, while a second, slightly older baby nurses at her other breast, while the Japanese mother reclines comfortably in her bed as she nurses – but the essentials are universal. Even the sibling interactions are hilariously similar. The Mongolian baby sits in the middle of a yurt draped with colorful woven rugs and wails periodically as his older brother flicks him in the face with a scrap of cloth. The Namibian baby sits on the ground and periodically wails as his older brother pushes him away. One of the funniest sequences in the entire film is a series of scenes involving very patient and long-suffering family cats. We see one of the babies looking on as his brother pulls on a leash around the neck of a large (and recumbent) cat, the cat limply allowing itself to be dragged with an expression on its face that would certainly be an eyeroll, if cats could roll their eyes. We see another baby sitting with a similarly patient cat on his lap, roughly grabbing at the cat’s fur and ear as the cat simply lies there, apparently resigned to its fate. And in an especially hysterical transition, we then cut to one more cat, carefully sitting out of reach of a baby and watching it warily.

Even the scenes that show how different the babies’ upbringings are have a core of universality, though. We see the Namibian baby calmly playing in the dirt as a herd of cattle wanders around him, the solid, powerful hooves looking no less dangerous than the heavy, wicked horns. The Mongolian child lies on a rug-draped couch as a large rooster with huge, dagger-like spurs casually hops up and saunters past. The American child careens across a playground on a little car, plowing through a crowded sidewalk and face-planting magnificently in a large sandbox. The dangers may vary from place to place, but there are dangers in every environment, no matter how primitive or how progressive.

But aside from the anthropological fascination I found with the film, I was also fascinated with how much of Ryan I saw in each baby. From the funny little newborn facial expressions, to the wide-eyed curiosity, to the babbling and mouth sounds, to random objects going directly into the mouth, to the jelly-legged attempts to stand up, there was a sense of familiarity in every scene and with every child. The soft cooing and singing of the mothers as they rocked sleepy babies made me smile as I thought of myself doing the same thing. Even the tightening in my chest as I saw each baby in danger of being hurt was recognizable as a sensation felt by every parent in a similar situation.

Ryan is not exactly like any other baby that ever has or ever will be on this earth, but there are some things about his life that have been experienced by every other baby that ever has or ever will be on this earth. It’s a wonderful blend of uniqueness and commonality.

What Are You FEEDING Him?

Ever since Ryan was about 4 months old, every time someone asks how old he is, as soon as I answer, the next question is nearly always, “What are you FEEDING him??” And my answer is generally, “Anything he wants!”

He is a good-sized kid, and he has an appetite to match. When he was first born, he had some difficulties with eating for a week or two, but ever since then he’s been making up for lost time. When he was strictly on formula and breast milk, he’d easily knock back 10 ounces or more in a single sitting. Now that he’s eating baby food, he’ll go through two 4-ounce packs of fruit and veggies three times a day with snacks and formula in between. He loves everything from bread to watermelon to Cheerios to sweet potatoes to oatmeal. The only things we’ve found so far that he doesn’t like are chicken and turkey!

Now that he’s mobile and on the go every waking hour, he’s started to gain weight a bit more slowly. But he certainly hasn’t slowed his food intake one bit! His menu for an average day is something like this:
Breakfast: 6 oz. banana puree, 3 oz. rice cereal, bit of toast, few chunks of watermelon
Morning snack: 10 oz. bottle, handful of Cheerios
Lunch: 4 oz. sweet potatoes, 4 oz. green beans, 2 oz. oatmeal
Afternoon snack: 10 oz. bottle, few chunks of watermelon, handful of rice puffs
Dinner: 4 oz. mixed vegetables, 4 oz. carrots, small piece of bread, 2-4 oz. apple-berry puree
Bedtime: 10 oz. bottle

For most moms with a 9-month old who weighs 18 or 20 pounds, that amount of food in one day is inconceivable. For most moms with a 2- or 3-year old, it sounds about right. And why shouldn’t Ryan eat like a 2- or 3-year old? He weighs the same as most 2- or 3-year olds! And he works out all day long, pulling himself up on the furniture, marching around the house, crawling around at top speeds, trying to open drawers and closets and doors. Pound for pound, he probably burns off as much energy as a personal trainer working an 8-hour shift.

And every day we try to find a new and different food to try: melon, berries, granola, apples, peas, and every kind of bread. Sometimes it’s baby food from a spoon, sometimes it’s table food in his mesh bag feeder, sometimes it’s grownup food cut into little bits so he can grab it with his own fingers. He’s sampled toast, pasta, cantaloupe, cheese, and yogurt. He’ll happily gnaw on a lemon wedge for several minutes. He’ll carefully examine a piece of cracker for a few moments before giving it a cautious taste, licking the salt off the edges and eventually putting it in his mouth. (Of course, he does the same thing with rocks, attempting to lick off the dirt and get the rock in his mouth before someone stops him, but we discourage that as much as possible.) He’ll drink a bit of diluted apple, orange, or cranberry juice from his own sippy cup, or have a little slug of juice or water from Mummy or Daddy’s cup. He’s even happy to slurp icewater from a spoon.

Having been an EXTREMELY picky eater myself as a child, I am delighted at his willingness to explore the wonderful world of food. I look forward to introducing him to slightly exotic foods like mushrooms and sushi and cheesecake when he’s older. I imagine teaching him to cook for himself, first simple things like scrambled eggs and grilled cheese, then working our way up to meatloaf and chicken casserole, and eventually maybe even something as fancy as beef wellington or stuffed acorn squash. But whatever his future in terms of food, I just hope he continues to explore and enjoy. And as long as I can, and as long as it’s healthy, I have every intention of continuing to feed him anything he wants!

The Reign of the World's Biggest Baby Continues

This morning Ryan had his four-month checkup, and I am proud to announce that he has kept his title of World's Biggest Baby! At 25 lbs. 8 oz. and 28-1/2 inches long, he is off the percentile charts for both height and weight. The good news is that since he was only in the 97th percentile for height (but over the 100th for weight) at his 2-month visit, he is actually slimming down (proportionately, anyway). He is in all respects a healthy, happy, strong, and strapping young lad!

And since he is doing so well, our next adventure will be starting on solid food. We stopped at the grocery store on the way home from his appointment to pick up some rice cereal for him to try. And of course, I had to pick up a few jars of stage 1 baby food for when we're ready to move onto that, as well. I don't want to rush anything, but the way he stares at us with such great intensity and interest when we're eating leaves no doubt that he's totally ready. He's fascinated by food, and I've been giving him baby spoons to play with and chew on so they won't be completely unfamiliar when we start putting food on them.

I'm a little sad to be leaving this part of infancy behind so soon, but Ryan is already starting to look so grown up and more like a toddler-to-be than an infant (ha! he really only ever looked like a tiny infant for about a week) that I might as well accept it and embrace it. My beautiful little baby is growing into a beautiful big boy, with all the new skills and excitement that come with that next step.

Before I know it, he'll be waving goodbye from the window of a school bus, asking to borrow the car keys, and filling out college applications. For now I guess I'll just enjoy him needing me to carry him around, and feed him, and dress him. And years from now, when it feels like he doesn't need me quite so much, I can remember these days when he was lost without me and know that somewhere deep inside, he will always be my sweet little boy who grins with delight at his mommy and daddy.