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Last year, my mom gave me this book for Christmas.
The first time I read it, I cried. The second time I read it, I cried. The third time I read it, I cried. Many times since I've read it, and I still tear up when I get to the page "Someday I will watch you brushing your child's hair".
Gwen spotted it on my shelf in August, and asked me to pull it down, and since then it has become a favorite of hers. She loves the picture on the front and is always disappointed that I am simply not capable of holding her like that (but daddy can, and will, some times). When I reach the page about brushing hair, she'll run to my bag and pull out my brush, and either ask me to brush hers or ask to brush mine. We've read the book enough that she can now "read" it sometimes herself. "Fingers! Tight! Baby! Child! Dive! Run! Swing! Sad! Buh-bye! Brush, brush! Fingers!" (because the last page has a photograph of the first page on it).
I love how she can tell that this is a book about mommies and babies, how she slots herself into the story. I love how she assumes that the baby in the book is her and the mommy is me.
It's like when I watch her playing with her dolls. She carefully lies them down, covers them with blankets, kisses them, pats them on the head, and then tells them "bye-bye!" Kids that age don't really have quite enough imagination yet in order create something wholly knew, so this can only come out of what she knows, what she lives. It's sweet watching her perception of her life.
The first time I read it, I cried. The second time I read it, I cried. The third time I read it, I cried. Many times since I've read it, and I still tear up when I get to the page "Someday I will watch you brushing your child's hair".
Gwen spotted it on my shelf in August, and asked me to pull it down, and since then it has become a favorite of hers. She loves the picture on the front and is always disappointed that I am simply not capable of holding her like that (but daddy can, and will, some times). When I reach the page about brushing hair, she'll run to my bag and pull out my brush, and either ask me to brush hers or ask to brush mine. We've read the book enough that she can now "read" it sometimes herself. "Fingers! Tight! Baby! Child! Dive! Run! Swing! Sad! Buh-bye! Brush, brush! Fingers!" (because the last page has a photograph of the first page on it).
I love how she can tell that this is a book about mommies and babies, how she slots herself into the story. I love how she assumes that the baby in the book is her and the mommy is me.
It's like when I watch her playing with her dolls. She carefully lies them down, covers them with blankets, kisses them, pats them on the head, and then tells them "bye-bye!" Kids that age don't really have quite enough imagination yet in order create something wholly knew, so this can only come out of what she knows, what she lives. It's sweet watching her perception of her life.
