Why talking and singing to your baby is easy
When Natasha was first born, I kept wondering how I was going to
talk and sing to her enough. All the reading I had done said to
talk, read and sing to your baby, that she needs to hear your voice
and that the rhythm and sound of words help with language
development.
Well, it did not take long before I became proficient at singing and
talking to Natasha. Songs about her, about what we were doing, about
what I was doing, all started to flow from me. Two years ago I never
would have believed that I would be singing about changing a poopy
diaper, but here I am, making up little ditties about changing
diapers, about it being nap or bedtime, and about going to the park.
And then there is the running narrative that follows us through the
day. I explain to Natasha that we are putting clothes into the
washing machine or that her dad is making a tuna melt.
To someone for whom everything is new, there is a whole lot to
explain! Think about the tuna melt. She does not understand the
concept of canning, so you explain what the thing is that dad is
opening and what he is using to open it. Then there is what is in
the can. How do they get a fish in there? There is the bread and the
cheese, the oven. . . I'm sure most people would not expect such an
existential analysis and explanation of a tuna melt, but when this
ends up being your day, day in and day out, and you are alone with
an eight-month-old girl all day, you end up doing things you did not
predict.
Natasha has many nicknames. The most commonly used one is Chubba,
short for Chubba Lubster and bestowed upon her when the chub started
to arrive and accumulate when Natasha was a couple of months old.
Now that the Chubba moniker (and its many variants including Chubbs,
Chubbers, and The Chubster) is well established (we hardly ever call
her Natasha), it has infiltrated other areas of our speech. We not
only address her as Chubba and talk to each other about Chubbs, but
we sing songs to and about Chubba. The words to our favourite songs,
brand new songs, and songs that we have learned at baby group have
suddenly had key words, entire phrases, and whole lyrics replaced
with "Chubba, Chubba, Chubba." Sometimes it is not even the words
but just the music that is replaced. This practice ends up being
like a catchy jingle that you hear on the radio or see on TV. It's
catchy, it sticks in your head, you sing it over and over again, and
it drives you absolutely bonkers. It is also very contagious. When
Steve starts singing about Chubba, I usually follow along (though on
some days I have to ask him to stop!). Sometimes we do it when she
is sleeping and is not even in the room.
Sometimes, as you can imagine, the singing can be a bit
embarrassing. I remember being at the video store one time with
Natasha in the carrier on my hip. She was getting a little bit
fussy, so I started to bounce up and down and sing her name over and
over. On about the six or seventh time, I realized that I was
singing kind of loudly and that the person down the isle was looking
in our direction. I decided to stop singing.
And then there are the sound effects. I have actually always been a
fan and an initiator of sound effects, and they now accompany most
actions and activities. I think the sound effects are often as much
for my benefit as for hers. Any of you out there who have been home
alone with a baby for months on end know how your need for
entertainment grows and how you suddenly are entertained by almost
anything. You probably never expected that a "shhhew" could be such
a simple pleasure. But, sometimes it is baby who brings these things
out.
You can also be rewarded with laughter at your sound effects, though
you never know which ones will elicit the delighted laugh, and don't
be surprised if something is the funniest thing they have ever heard
one day but gets a blank stare the next.
Natasha's own words and sounds are inspiration for us. We end up
repeating what she says. This is another thing that the books say to
do, but they really don't need to. It is automatic. People who do
not spend much time with Natasha end up repeating her words, too.
When Steve's sister and her kids were visiting this summer, Natasha
made a sound, and everyone, three teenaged relatives and three
over-thirty-years-old parents, all started mimicking her. (Or trying
to mimic her, anyway; we have teeth and speak English, wile Natasha
is not limited by these factors yet.) It's funny to observe and to
be a part of, and it seems to be a primal reaction. It is great for
Natasha's self-esteem, and we all love seeing her reaction when she
finds it funny to have someone repeating what she is doing.
I guess this is one of the first lessons that Natasha has taught us.
Your creativity and inventiveness are suddenly needed and
appreciated on a constant and daily basis that it was not before.
Nobody can tell you how to talk and sing to your baby all day, just
that you should. It turns out that none of that advice is necessary,
as it starts to happen without any conscious attempt on your part.
Just let your tongue go and follow your baby's lead!