Baby Will

Some very dear friends of ours just welcomed their first child, William. Although once upon a time they lived just a few blocks away from us, their jobs took them to Washington, D.C. However, recently they made the brave move, with a 6-week-old, to Chicago. Still not a matter of blocks away, but a bit closer nonetheless.

Since they still have many, many friends here, they took the opportunity to swing back by for a weekend baby shower and to catch up with old friends. So, they loaded up their car with diapers and other baby paraphernalia and headed our way for a weekend visit.

The little man was mighty confused when momma started bringing up a menagerie of soft baby blankets, the bouncy seat and the pack-n-play from the basement.

"What's this, momma?" he asked as he sorted through the baby blankets.

"Those are for Baby Will, he's going to come see you," I told him.

Little man sat with a smile on his face and eyes wide open as I told him all about how those were once his baby blankets and how he had once loved sitting in the bouncy seat and feeling the soft vibrations. All of these objects that once were so much a part of our lives were not even a memory in his mind. He had no recollection of the soft lamb blanket or the blue bouncy seat.

As much as I tried to keep the little man out of the baby things in anticipation of Baby Will's arrival, the temptation was just too much. If he was missing I knew I could find him near the baby stuff.

"No, those are for Baby Will," I told him.

"But he needs to share, momma," the little man insisted. "Baby Will needs to learn how to share."

"I don't think it's Baby Will who needs to learn how to share," I told replied as I shooed him away.

The weekend came and went and we all had a great time catching up and playing with Baby Will.

Even if the little man didn't understand why Baby Will couldn't play with his matchbox trucks.

Once they had left, I washed the baby blankets once more and packed them away along with the other basement baby items we had gotten out and dusted off for Baby Will's stay.

I reflected back on those early days and couldn't believe that the little man had no recollection of them. They were so clear and vivid to me - and even though they were 3 1/2 years ago, seemed like yesterday.

A few days later, the little man was having a particularly hard time falling asleep. He was cranky and sleepy but just couldn't fall asleep in his dark room. I went in to tuck him in again and tell him it was time to go nite-nite.

"You gotta go to sleep buddy," I said as I rubbed his back.

"Sing me a song mommy," he whimpered.

"What song do you want?" I asked him.

"My song," he said. "Sing me my song."

I paused.

He did remember one thing from his baby years.

There was a song. A song I made up and used to sing to him in the late night hours in his nursery. His very own lullaby.

As remembered the words and sang it to him, his eyes slowly closed and he drifted off to sleep, just like he used to. I crept out of his room and closed his door.

And although he may not remember the lamb blanket or the bouncy seat, he does remember one special thing. A simple, private little song from his mommy to him. Proving that it's not the toys or the gadgets that make a difference in a child's life ... it's the oh so little things.