Leona

“Sometimes the littlest things take up the most room in your heart.” – Winnie the Pooh

I just spent two weeks with my new grandbaby. Her mom and dad came to visit over the holidays, so Leona and I were reacquainted after we parted in September. All the relatives got to meet her Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, dog cousins and especially her Great Aunt Judy, age 82. Our baby handled all the swarm of relatives with grace and good humor just like her father did four years ago upon his introduction to the Detrie’s.

Leona turned five months while she was with us. I dragged out Megan’s baby book to make comparisons, and we discovered at five months she’s pretty much the same size as her mother—23 inches and eleven pounds, nine ounces. Meg was one ounce heavier, but it could have been due to needing a diaper change.

I confess I don’t remember much about Megan at five months. The incident when she rolled to the dieffenbachia and grabbed a low hanging leaf to sample in her mouth is forever etched in my memory. Calling Poison Control when your baby only drinks breast milk but has still managed to poison herself is hard to forget. However, according to my documentation in the baby book, she started to creep at five and a half months. Leona moves by rolling over and by rocking back and forth on her belly like a legless iguana.

That’s why I’m writing my observations of Leona today, while they’re sharp in my memory. At age 73, I don’t know how much longer my brain cells and synapses will continue firing. Every once in a while, I have a short circuit and can’t recall what I was looking for when I entered a room or can only remember the first letter of someone’s name. So when Leona’s older, I’ll have this piece to share with her featuring her babyhood.

Is there anything sweeter than the warm weight of a baby in your arms? My surgeon gave me the go ahead to hold all twelve pounds of her, the only caveat being not to reach down into her crib to lift her. Problem solved because her a parent’s have a Pac-N-Play crib with a zipper on the side, so I can just slide her in and out. I put it to good use during my baby-sitting stint.

Leona smells like a pina colada because her mom rubs her head with coconut oil to get rid of cradle cap, which babies still get. Her hair is the length of Chris Hemsworth’s chin stubble, baby baldness being a Detrie family trait, along with the unique ears, which will eventually be covered by her long mane when she’s older. She has long, slim fingers, so good at grasping Mommy’s hair, Daddy’s fingers, Grandma’s necklace, and at crinkling the pages of magazines when Mom reads the New Yorker or Pops’ (chosen name for my husband) gun magazine aloud to her.

Is it any surprise that Leona loves books? When Tim reads to her, he goes beyond the print to explain and elaborate. She listens to his calm voice with rapt attention. She has her favorites, like Sandra Boynton’s Pajama Time. While babysitting I read it three times and finally read it backwards the fourth because I was getting sick of the same words. Since she loves to touch everything, the touch and feel books are also high on her list of favorites. Books that taste good rank right up there as well.

Taste seems to be her favorite way to explore right now. Her new Christmas toys went right into her mouth. Her favorite was a green narwhal that could be hung from her baby seat, car seat or stroller. My theory is the long tusk protruding from its head is the same shape and size of a nipple, so it’s a pacifier of a sort. Two fingers on her left hand find their way into her mouth, like her mom used to do. Lately she’s taken to mouthing the cheek of anyone who’s holding her. I like to thinks it’s her way of baby kissing, but in reality, it’s the mouth discovery zone. Luckily, she hasn’t any teeth yet

Leona is blessed with good parents. Tim rises early with her so Meg can sleep later. He talks to her about what they see out the window or sets a few morning intentions with her, before he goes to his virtual job. She looks so happy and content in his arms. My daughter became a born mother with the birth of this baby. For a young woman who firmly declared many times she didn’t like babies, she has been transformed into fiercely loving parent. Breastfeeding. Playing during tummy time. Snuggling when Leona falls sleep in her arms. Singing to her. Reading baby books and assorted other materials to her. Taking her for long walks so Tim can work in quiet. It’s so heart-filling to watch the two of them grow as parents.

Maybe the most joy comes from watching my husband play with her. He’s definitely the fun grandparent. Pops sings a nonsense song to her that she loves. He plays a modified airplane with her, lifting her as she baby-giggles. He’s an expert at burping her and has even changed a dirty diaper or two. He encourages her to stretch her legs and semi-stand, saying, “Look how strong she is!”

In this crazy world, Leona will have to live up to her namesake of lion. Her parents are bravely preparing her for all the struggles she may encounter. When Meg makes her wriggle toward her toy instead of just handing it to her., she tells me, “I’m teaching her to be resilient and resourceful.” Tim encourages her to roll toward what she wants to touch. “You can do it, little baby.” Another Winnie the Pooh quote comes to mind. “You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” Leona has a sense of agency growing inside her, even though she’s still a baby, thanks to her mom, dad and grandfather.

Leona doesn’t just love Pops’ songs. She has definite music preferences. Billy Jonas is her current ‘pop’ idol. I’m including the link to Nocturnal, her favorite song. We were driving home from the relatives’ visit. Tim was driving and I was in charge of keeping the baby awake and quiet. She was tired and a bit hungry. Her pacifier no longer did the trick.
Me singing old Raffi tunes like Baby Beluga just seemed to make her fussier. Then I remembered her favorite song on Spotify. SUCCESS!
It worked like magic.
https://youtu.be/HRVtSOBxTEo?si=8anwJv5TZv0rZ2ox

The kitty keyboard also was a success. She abandoned the attempts to eat it and just pressed the piano keys and buttons of different drum beats. Disco seemed to be her favorite. (the easiest to reach?) A baby musical prodigy in the making!

We babysat the last night they were with us, so Tim and Megan could meet some college friends in Madison for a night out. She woke up from her afternoon nap at five. Michael and I played with her until six thirty, trying to keep her entertained until her last bottle before bed. When she started with her hangry sounds, a sort of guttural growl so you know she means business before the howling in hunger begins. I fed her four ounces, Michael burped her, diaper change, wash hands and face, all the components of her bedtime routine. She was too fussy for a story, so I fed her the last ounce of milk and sang “Hush Little Baby.” She fell asleep in my arms before I could finish the second round. Unzip the portable crib, gently slide her in, and our child care job was completed. Her parents made it home before the episode of Jamaica Inn on PBS even started. We still had the magical touch when putting the baby to bed.
 
The next day we drove to Chicago’s O’Hare Airport to see them safely off to Brooklyn. More than a few Grandma tears were shed in the car in the way back to Watertown. Once again, Winnie the Pooh provided some consolation. “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
 
Good-bye sweet baby girl, until we see you in April!