A couple of weeks ago, we attended an infant care class and the teacher said to think of a newborn as a stranger. They are unfamiliar with the world that parents live in. The one they knew was dark, compact and reassuringly full of whooshing, fluid noises. The new, bright, occasionally quiet, colorful, spasmodic place they now reside in is a jarring change to the biological home they were just evicted from.
They are strange to themselves. Arms that were held against their bodies now can flail about. Twitches and reflexes have them wriggling about without intention. They will know how to manage these parts and pieces, make sense of what eyes and ears tell them, but not for the near future. They are learning machine, just newly turned on.
Most importantly, to my understanding, they are strangers to everyone around. As familiar as they may seem, you have only been introduced to each other recently. You don’t know what they like, dislike, what their moods are like, and so on. “Get to know me,” should be stamped on every kid.
We have a mysterious kid of our own. This one promises adventures, despair and joy. Already, I find her quite charming. So, I say to her with the tenderest of voices;
“Hello, Stranger.”
Baby FAQ:
D.O.B 12/26/07 (two and a half weeks ahead of due date)
7 pounds 7.5 ounces.
18 1/2 inches.
Neon Poisoning 