nurturing a nurturing nature

Isaac's closest buddy has a new little sister. Born the day before Isaac's birthday.

A month or so ago her mama brought her into Isaac's preschool class so that everyone could meet her and so his buddy could continue to process this huge new change in his world in another realm of his little life. His mama told me laughing afterwards that the girls all swamped her and the baby, while the boys, including her own and Isaac hung back and looked wholly uninterested. But I knew my guy better than that. I guessed it was more of his impressive ability at observation than his disinterest that kept him at bay that day. I'd have a chance to try out my theory.

Not long after, baby, mama, and friend were visiting us at our place. When the little one would squawk, Isaac would pause in racing from one end of the house to the other with his bud to look at us with an expression similar to what my Zappy cat would give us when Isaac cried as a newborn. It said: “The baby is in distress. What are you people going to DO about it?”

Later, pulling himself away from a game of something called – as close as I could tell – Pour Every Toy in Isaac's Room onto the Floor and then Smash the Closest Car into the Closest Animal while Wearing a Fire Hat and Screaming, Isaac appeared in the living room again where baby was mewing and mamas were chatting. He had with him an old pacifier that was still kicking around his room, despite the fact that he hasn't used one since before he turned one. He offered it up to baby's mama.

“Oh! Thank you, Isaac!” she exclaimed. “For the baby? How sweet!”

She didn't notice that when he retreated that he was still lurking just around the corner within earshot.

“But I don't think I'm going to put it in her mouth,” she finished.

“Why?!” Iz whined, reappearing, his little broken heart on his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, um...”

I stepped in. “Iz, some babies don't use pacifiers when they are so little. Maybe she can use it when she's a little older. And maybe we can make sure it's really clean so it won't have any germs to make her sick.”

Later that night, Mike, Iz and I were in Iz's room and found ourselves absently twiddling with the same pacifier while talking about the day. I informed his dad how kind Isaac had been earlier, trying to offer it to the baby. Dad cooed over the gesture. I hadn't mentioned that the baby didn't use it or what Isaac had overheard, trying just to reinforce the praise for the intention. Isaac, staring intently down at the dark blue nipple said only, “I'm going to get this thing clean. Somehow, I'm going to get it really clean.”