Your Baby

I was doing something in the kitchen the other day (probably something really fabulous like cleaning the top of the stove which never, ever gets clean) and I heard Eliot and Aron talking in the living room. I missed the whole conversation except this part.

Eliot: Baby (I think he was pushing the baby in the swing)
Aron: Is that your baby ?
Eliot: Baby
Aron: Eliot, you're my baby.

Oh my goodness. I could go on for way more words than is appropriate for a blog about how amazing I think that moment was/is. Eliot is so kind to his baby and lately all of his stuffed animals. He feeds them and swings them and wants to include them in his play - including putting his fuzzy rabbit in the raunchy, stagnant water he had in the back yard. I read somewhere that kids grow up to treat their children the way they were treated (the context was a parent writing in to say how freaked out they were because their child was throwing their baby doll around).

I'm just not used to being around the father/son dynamic. There wasn't any of that going on at our house growing up. I'm sitting face to face with my goofy assumptions about how dads talk to their sons and it blew me away that Aron talked to Eliot about Eliot being his baby when Eliot was in the middle of a loving act of caring for his baby. Its so beautiful in its simplicity. Basically, Eliot you love caring for your baby and I love caring for you.