On babies

I spent Friday night hanging out with a 20 month old. A coworker invited me to tag along on her regular Friday night visit to her sister’s. It was great. I don’t have any children in my life here—or even my life at home. [I know I am at an age where reproducing is not unusual, but so far my friends, my brother, and most everyone else that I know in my age cohort are ignoring our biological clocks.] It’s been nearly two years since I spent any quality time with a toddler.

My friend, the baby’s mother (who, for the record, is 31), and I sat and drank tea and played ball with the little girl. All the while, Teletubbiesi (as they are know here) played in the background. It’s dubbed in Serbian & ridiculous, but fun to watch. M, the little girl, received the DVD only 3 days ago. She is already obsessed. The only crying of the night was when Teletubbiesi was turned off. We also spent some time looking at a children’s picture dictionary, asking M to point out the horses, houses, and puppies. It was a Disney dictionary that the girl’s mother, and my friend had when they were little. M also rode her big wheel around the flat.

It was surprisingly comforting to see that the trappings of childhood here—or at least of M’s childhood- are so familiar.