baby therapy

I have been converted to a religious belief in the efficacy of Baby Therapy, which may not actually work if you are a parent living every day with the weight and dependence of a small creature’s wellbeing framing your days, but which is magical when you are a quite childless 21-year-old student who has taken up permanent residence in Emotional Breakdown Land. The gist of the therapy is simple:  holding a baby, kissing a baby, or making a baby smile fixes all. Can’t stop crying for two days straight? Drive an hour and a half to Santa Rosa to stay with a friend and hold her sister’s twin babies! Wallowing and drowning in nihilism while rereading crazy philosophy? Baby. Encroaching despair over all of the undone work that is due this coming wednesday? Baby. Overwhelming conviction of own unlovability coupled with disillusionment about the possibility of ever having meaningful connections with other people? Baby, cookies, christmas carols, baby.

Worked like a charm.

In all seriousness, I love my friend B and her family so dearly that I secretly want to have them perform an adult adoption so I can be the much younger dark-haired sister in a family of blondes and redheads. Visiting them is always restful, rejuvenating, and comforting. They’re all such very good people — I go see them whenever I start to slip in my belief that such a thing exists. I feel incredibly lucky and thankful to have them in my life, and am so very grateful that they open their doors to me whenever I need a rest.


~ by Not Alice on December 17, 2007.

One Response to “baby therapy”

  1. Baby smiles DO fix a lot of what ails one. I’m glad you have that family available to you!

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