Yes, Babies Bounce

They bounce, they roll, they flop around and do LOTS of other entertaining stuff. But Tuesday, the focus was mostly on how babies bounce.


The MoMs club meeting this month included a CPR refresher course led by the fabulous LF. Having never completed an official CPR certification course, the evening was certainly educational, and entertaining to boot. There's just something inherently funny about a group of women puffing on disturbingly blank-faced, open-mouthed dolls that have been passed around, bounced on tables and whacked on the back to dislodge the little items we've poked into their little mouths. I felt bad, though, when LF called me out for what must have been a bemused expression on my face.

I know that I don't have, nor have I had, emotional self-control at the level I'm used to having it for about the past eighteen months due in large part to the crazy, raging hormones that stubbornly refuse to leave coupled with lack of good, consistent sleep, not to mention all the little worrisome things I can't do anything about that have pushed me to the brink of freak-out mode and left me there while they go get a mani-pedi and a martini. So I guess I shouldn't be too surprised to find that what was an attempted "I'm being a good, attentive listener" face came out looking like a pasted-on smirk. I really am sorry, LF. I totally didn't mean it that way. Apparently, I've now also lost control of my facial muscles. I hate to think of what's next. Huzzah!

LF made many good points in her presentation, the greatest one being that no matter what we're doing when administering CPR to an unresponsive infant, toddler, pre-pubescent, adolescent, or adult, even if it isn't totally right it's better than doing nothing. The funniest point, which LF physically demonstrated with some enthusiasm which we could all probably embrace a little more than we'd like to admit, is that babies will bounce. Take from that what you like. Generally I like to think that we moms are all alert enough to prevent accidents but, metaphorically speaking, bullets travel fast and while we might be able to help our kids dodge a couple, they probably can't dodge them all. Thus, it's good to have a little bounce.

What this reminded me of, when LF made her "babies bounce" comment (and probably what helped put that unintentional, snarky smirk upon my well-meaning visage), was something my mom said a long, long time ago after my first nephew was born (I was twelve, I think), and a phrase I've carried around with me ever since. We were babysitting said adorable nephew and I was gingerly attempting to change his diaper while he squiggled, squirmed and successfully evaded my grasp for about ten minutes. She grabbed the baby and he writhed in protest. She plopped him down in front of her, held him firmly and said, "Now, change him and don't be so scared. Babies bend before they break." Mimzi has very good reason for holding this outlook on parenting.

And her point is true. Even Biscuit, for as accident-prone as he is, has only broken one bone in his entire life and required just four stitches under his ten-month-old chin for a freak fall. This is the kid whose face bounced off the wrought-iron bars of a fence at Disneyland, whose entire body has bounced numerous times off of sliding glass and screen doors, and whose keester has bounced off the ground while waveboarding, scootering, rollerblading, and bike riding more times that anyone could count.

I've been in a bit of a euphoria, too, over the past couple of weeks over the Beans' upcoming birthday. It's been almost an entire year since Pipsi's had any apnea episodes and I might finally be able to lay that fear to rest. I don't have my fingers crossed or my breath held, but it might happen. We've also been very fortunate to not have had any situations (aside from the one a couple of weeks ago which turned out to be nothing) in which we've had to be grateful for the fact that babies do indeed bounce, and I'm starting to breathe more easily since both Beans seem to be developmentally on track. There is, however, one more association I have with that word, "bounce", but it's a biggie and another one of the issues that will keep me from sleeping until the Beans are at least two years old and we get the all-clear.

You see, my brother bounces. He bounces for probably a couple of hours every day on a big red exercise ball in his room at my parents' house. He's 36 years old, has Star Trek paraphernalia throughout his room and he enjoys listening to SchoolHouse Rock and sitcom theme songs from the 80s. He likes to bounce because it mellows him out and he's done it for as long as I can remember and he'll probably do it for his entire life because he's severely autistic.

There are many ways in which I want my Beans to bounce. Of course I want them to be happy, bouncy babies. I want them to bounce back from illness and from physical and emotional pain. I want them to eat too much sugar and bounce off the walls at their first slumber party with all their giddy, screaming little girlfriends. I want them to bounce back from a bad grade on their first paper in college. And I want them to bounce their own babies in their arms after they finish grad school and get themselves into careers that satisfy them, all things they won't do if they spend their lives bouncing on the same ball in the same room day after day.

Do I have any control at all over that? Maybe just a little. I can pay attention at a CPR class and make sure that no matter what crisis arises I can bounce to the side of whomever is in need and help Biscuit or the Beans as best I can. When Hubby and I were expecting the Beans and visited the genetic counselor we got the standard "nobody knows what causes autism but it's probably got something to do with genetics and the odds of your kids having it are higher but we just can't tell you anything for sure" speech. And I specifically remember the day we found out the Beans were girls Hubby and I sharing in a little relief because autism occurs less frequently in females. I know that there's nothing I can do about the genes the girls got and the best I can do is be prepared for whatever life throws our way. But I still hope every day and with all my might that maybe, just maybe my Beans can do more than bounce. Hopefully, they can dodge at least one bullet in all their lives, and I hope it's this one.



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