Beece

We have a new addition to our family of five: Beece.

“Beece!” Baby shouts each morning when she wakes up. “Beece!” she cries, looking around her before settling down with her bottle. “Beece,” she says mournfully during play time, searching under tables and around corners. She’s not satisfied until I’ve located Beece and brought her to her tiny mama.

Beece is a replica of my first doll, Madame Alexander’s “Baby Huggums”, which I bought for Baby at Christmas time. Baby’s always liked the doll, but during the last month, that like turned to love and now borders on obsession. Once she’d settled on the name “Beece,” she decided that Beece would accompany her everywhere, and she’d do for Beece all the things that I do for her.

So when Baby drinks her bottle, she stops every so often and gives some to Beece. When Baby eats, she also feeds Beece, even making chewing sounds on Beece’s behalf. Of course, Beece gets lots of hugs and kisses and even a few full-on smooches every day. And Beece takes naps– Baby puts Beece on her back, puts her finger to her lips and says “Ssssss.” This morning, Beece even had a small tantrum. Baby sympathetically patted Beece’s back while making crying noises.

Beece is also my own private gauge of a person’s goodness. Almost since she was born, Baby has had an instinctive feel for good people. We brought her to a child’s funeral when she was 6 months old. When the child’s grandmother came over to my husband and me, about to burst into tears, Baby held out her arms and went straight to the grandmother. It was as if she knew that woman needed to hold her. And Baby has always done that. There are plenty of attractive, kind-looking people she’s shunned when they’ve tried to pick her up- instead, she’ll hold out her arms to the soccer mom who’s very nice but not part of the “in crowd”, the quiet, gruff grandfather with a heart of gold, the awkward teenager who’s one of the sweetest girls we know. Now that Baby’s getting older, she holds out Beece to those she trusts, offering them a chance to hug her most prized possession. These people think it’s cute; They have no idea what the Beece offering says about them.

I have to admit I get a little jealous of Beece sometimes. The hugs and kisses Beece gets used to be mine. And Baby’s given up my lap during TV time. Instead, she sits in her baby-sized armchair and holds Beece. Oh I still get plenty of Baby love… but there’s no denying I’d get a lot more if it weren’t for Beece.

Yet I recognize that Beece is the first step in Baby’s long journey toward independence. I feel lucky that I’m still in that wonderful place where Baby often points at herself when I ask “Where’s Mommy?” and points at me when I ask, “Where’s Baby?”, even though she gets everyone else right, including friends and relatives. I read somewhere that it takes time for babies to realize they’re not part of their mothers’ bodies, but instead are independent human beings and I like the thought of Baby still thinking she’s part of me. And it pleases me to think Beece could be an indication that Baby will be a good mommy some day.

So I guess as long as Baby loves Beece, we’ll have to love her too.