Reflect and Reflex

It has been a long time since I have changed a baby’s diaper, and to be honest, the few times I did wouldn’t put me among professionals. I firmly believe that taking care of a baby is not exclusively a woman’s responsibility, even though it seems they carry the load most of the time. Nor am I opposed to taking up the task of freshening up a baby when it presents itself, but I’m afraid I won’t run to the front of the line either.

In just under two weeks my son-in-law, Adam, has probably changed more diapers than I did during my two children’s pre-potty training tour of duty. I had jumped in with both hands early on but was summarily dismissed when things got a little messy.

My wife, Rhonda, is normally a rational woman, but one day (for reasons still not entirely clear) she left me alone to change our baby’s diaper. The procedure was going poorly, as I was not too sure of myself; I think the baby knew that for babies seem to sense doubt and uncertainty.

Fearing the worst, I slowly opened the diaper to see what I was up against. The sight and smell were certainly bad enough, but what put me over the edge was when I got some on my hand.

When a baby is startled it will exhibit what is known as a “Moro reflex,” named after Ernst Moro, an Austrian pediatrician, who probably discovered it when changing a diaper. According to Children’s Hospital of Wisconsin, “The Moro reflex…usually occurs when a baby is startled by a loud sound or movement. In response to the sound, the baby throws back his/her head, extends out the arms and legs, cries…”

When I got my hand dirty I screamed in disgust, which triggered a text-book example of the Moro reflex. The secondary reaction of the Moro reflex is the mother reflex.  Upon hearing her baby cry (the infant, not me) Rhonda came flying into the room demanding to know what had happened.

“I got some on my hand,” I explained.

She unsympathetically kicked me out of the room. As I left I could hear Rhonda comforting the baby.  I knew I was wrong, but I needed to wash my hands.

As I reflect on my reflex I realize I could have handled things differently. Now, with a new baby in the family, I have a chance to make things right. So, to demonstrate my willingness to lend a hand I have made a list of activities where I believe my skills are best suited.

Now I can hold Micah until he begins to fuss; I can watch him while others do the laundry, cooking and various household chores, and then I can alert them when Micah needs something. When he begins to crawl and walk I can follow him around to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.

When he gets a little older I can read stories to him and wrestle with him; we can play games and go on great adventures, both real and imaginary.  We will go outside to look for bugs that crawl and jump and stay inside to play checkers when it rains. We can go get ice cream because we are hungry for some.

Then someday I can teach him how to throw a Frisbee and play the banjo. We will have long, easy talks filled with questions and wonderings. I can teach him how to back a trailer and drive a truck with a stick shift.

As his grandfather I hope to help him learn to value integrity over intelligence; hard work over a hand-out and kindness over cleverness. My Dad once told me you have to bend a tree when it’s young. I want to help Micah while he’s young, because it’s hard to change someone when they get older.