YO MAMA: Your baby is a zen master
OPINION
Water vapour floats up in soft wisps and tendrils as I drain my pot of black beans over the sink. My toddler, who is playing on the floor nearby, catches sight of the strange optical effect and speed-crawls over to my feet, asking to be picked up. I hoist him up to the still steaming pile of beans and his face breaks into a dimpled grin. He drifts his outstretched fingers through the steam like a kid sailing his hand through the breeze of an open car window. He makes little grabbing attempts and giggles at his inability to catch the tiny clouds hovering above his soon-to-be lunch.
Man, this kid is so in the moment.
I, on the other hand, am in hamster-brain, running a loop of to do’s, inner monologues and dilemmas: what spices should I add to the beans, will they be too spicy? I hope they help him poop. We need to hurry up with lunch if we’re going to be on time for nap. If we’re not on time for nap, we’re going to be late for our playdate. The kid better have a good nap, because he slept terribly last night... Why is he sleeping so poorly? Is he teething again? Is it a growth spurt? Is it yet another SLEEP REGRESSION?
Meanwhile, the kid is still diggin’ the bean steam. He glances over at me every once in a while with a look of pure joy and amazement. Are you seeing this right now, mom?! How is this happening?
These moments of spontaneous rapture are a regular occurrence for my little one. Lately, it’s been the magical disappearing act of the cat’s paws poking under the bedroom door. Or the sensation of dipping his fingers in a stream of running water. The moving shadows of tree branches. Tiny specks of lint on the carpet. A crack on the wall. My mole.
I envy his meditative state. He is so in the moment, so present.
There’s this mindfulness exercise from the book “The Miracle of Mindfulness” by Thich Naht Hanh that comes to mind. Now, I’ve been too busy making sure my son doesn’t eat an electrical cord to actually read the book, but thanks to a couple podcasts I listen to while baby-wearing, I’ve gotten the gist. The exercise involves washing the dishes — something I do a lot of as a new mom, along with copious amounts of laundry. You are supposed to clear your mind and focus only on doing the dishes — the warmth of the water, the weight of the plates, the smell of the soap, etc, etc... It sounds a little silly, but it’s actually really hard. That’s because most of us typically default to one of two mental spaces: retrospection (thinking about the past) or prospection (thinking about the future). That’s me to a T: constantly micro-analyzing things that have happened or ruminating on things yet to come.
At least, that used to be me. I’ve noticed some changes in the past few months, thanks to my own personal zen master.
For my son, there is no retrospection or prospection; he is 100 percent, beautifully and blissfully living in the moment. When he plays with his wooden blocks, he is playing with his wooden blocks. When he is sucking on his toes, he is only sucking on his toes. He is totally absorbed in all the sensations of his actions and interactions with the world around him. And I am totally, blissfully, absorbed in watching him.
I take a breath and allow myself to really be present with my son. As I stand in front of the sink, holding him near the steam, I notice how much heavier he feels in my arms. He is growing so fast. I smell the citrus on his fingers from the mandarin oranges we ate at lunch. His voice is loud in my ear (he’s yelling at the bean-steam) and I notice that he’s experimenting with yet another new sound pattern: ah-ya-ya-ah-ya-ya!
I follow his lead and dance my fingers through the water vapour. He lights up as we share this moment together, draining beans over the kitchen sink. It’s not exactly the dishes exercise, but I think it’s even better.
— Charlotte Helston gave birth to her first child, a rambunctious little boy, in the spring of 2021. Yo Mama is her weekly reflection on the wild, exhilarating, beautiful, messy, awe-inspiring journey of parenthood.
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