It take a willage

Sorry for the title. Been listening to David Sedaris lately.

Anonyhubby and I and a friend went to a local botanical garden to take some classes last night. Friend and I had the pollination class and got to giggle in the back while the cute and enthusiastic teacher talked about plant sex. It was fun.

But we left anonybabe with a babysitter last night. We've had people watch her before, but this was kind of a first extended leave-her-at-someone-else's-house-while-we're-gone-for-four-hours kind of thing. We left her with my birth doula, who has met her twice, briefly. Once - you know - as she made her entrance into the world and then once a couple of months ago, before anonybabe seemed to recognize even me.

If I was going to leave her with anybody I knew I would feel comfortable leaving her with this woman, but I worried. Particularly when a.b. fell asleep right before we dropped her off with the sitter. I worried that she would wake up and think "where the bloody hell am I and who are these motherfucking people and mom and dad have abandoned me!!! WAAAAA". So I worried through the cute little plant sex jokes. I worried through the chit chat with the teacher afterwards. I worried through the drive back to babysitters.

And then we walked in to the smiliest most contented baby girl I think I've seen in her short life. She gave us a full on grin when we walked in the door but didn't make a move to be taken out of doula's arms. And then we watched video that doula had taken of her kids playing with baby. And I saw an even smilier even more contented baby girl than I'd seen before. She was babbling with them and her eyes were alight and she just looked so freaking comfortable. We found that when she woke up in her carseat in a strange house she just checked everybody out, and the doula, being a respectful person, let her do that for five minutes or so until she made a move like she wanted out of the seat and then she got to play like she's never played before.

So of course I'm delighted that she was so comfortable and of course my heart is breaking that she was so comfortable without us. I don't want her to need us to be around to be happy, but it sure is heady stuff to feel needed. *Sigh*

Since before she was born I was determined that she would get to be around lots of different people. Nice people, mean people, ditzy people, razor-sharp ones, thoughtful people, selfish people, on and on. I want her to know the smorgasboard of personalities out there so that if she lives in a bubble it'll be one of her choosing, not one that she lives in out of default because it's the one her father and I have chosen for ourselves. If she ends up with a vastly different personality than her father and I, I don't want her to feel alone. I want her to be able to find a mentor, somebody she can talk to about who she thinks she is and who she is becoming. Whether she likes unicorns and promise rings and Focus on the Family (please god, no) or sex, drugs, and rock n' roll (slightly less no) or political activism or macrame, my dream is that she'll always be tripping lightly down the road of self-discovery. And if not tripping lightly that she'll at least have a hand to hold while she drags herself along the way. And I realize that my hand is likely not the hand she'll hold. Sometimes, maybe. If I'm lucky we'll be compatible enough that I'll get that pleasure a fair amount. Her father and I are kind of putting all of our eggs in one basket with this only child thing. Just because we share the same gene pool doesn't mean that we'll inhabit remotely similar head spaces. I know that we could easily be strangers for the most part...and if that's the case then I don't want her to be denied of somebody who gets her just because we don't.

All this to say I want her to enjoy other people's company. I want to be happy for her when she enjoys other people's company. I just am shocked and awed that it's happening already. Even just a tiny bit.