Abigail Grace

Abigail Grace

My daughter first blessed the world with her smile several months ago, just days after her birth. Very soon her smiles were clearly intentional. They are facing splitting and gummy, her dimples popping up in her chubby cheeks, usually accompanied by squeaks and gurgles and the waving of her fists.

“Oh she is so cute,” people singsong as we come into view. I feel like a celebratory, my accessory a baby, not my body or expensive clothes. I’ve never received so much attention, and at my worst, brain fuzzy, wardrobe challenged, a bit overweight.

What is is about a baby that draws people like a magnet? I watch my daughter for clues. Clearly, there is the cuteness factor but that can’t be all of it. Cute adults are not cooed over. I think it must be the accessibility and innocence of a baby. Most are defenseless and open, taking in the world with wide eyes, and if we are fortunate, smiles. How many adults still approach life this way?

I judge and worry and hide who I am at times. My daughter does not. She might poop as you hold her but it won’t bother her. She is adorable, body functions and all. She will drool and gurgle and everyone smiles. Even her fat, especially her fat, is precious.

I also watch who my baby daughter responds too. She wiggles and coos in delight at those who open their eyes wide at her and smile, those that mirror her spontaneous noises with their own. They are people who are not afraid to engage and live in the moment, most are confident in themselves.

I am receiving simple lessons in living each day and I’ve decided I’d like to be unapologetically myself, allowing others to be themselves too. I’d like to be more like my daughter.