My Quirky Boy

Our cubords are bare, and out of desperation we decided to go out for dinner tonight.  We went to a local favorite, casual eatery, and red jello is their specialty.  For which Fin is a regular conissour.  We were sitting in our usual place, talking over our day through dinner. The baby was on the floor still in her car seat entertaining herself. I had forgotten to bring a paci, and we hoped she would stay placated long enough for us to get through the meal

Hubby and I were talking, and I glanced down at her make sure she wasn’t getting in to trouble. I watched what seemed like slow motion, as she lifted her hand to her mouth.  She took her index and middle finger, placed them in her mouth with her palm facing upward. To the casual observer, what’s the big deal? Babies put their fingers in  their mouths all the time. It wasn’t that she did it, it was the fingers, and how she did it. I tapped hubby, and he too looked down in total amazement.

When Fin was a baby he refused a paci, and for months would only suck on my pinkie. I spent nights with my arm draped over the edge of the crib with my pinkie in his mouth waiting for the moment of final relaxation to remove my hand.  Somewhere along the way he discovered his own fingers and they were almost a permanent implantation. The child was never seen with out the 2 first fingers of his left hand in his mouth, palm up to the heavens. It was such a source of comfort for him, and we never worried about how long they were gong to be in there, as far as age. For a child who has anxiety levels to the extent that he does, it was such a simle way to ease his fears.

The problem of wondering when the habit would stop took care of itself.  The day we moved into our current house, we were at my mother’s in the kitchen making breakfast.  He reached up in the fridge and touched the light.  That one that on sleepless nights is usually a source of comfort. Of course, he touched the light with his comfort fingers.  The burn was horrible, and immediate. He called them his “bubbles”. It was weeks of wrapping, salves, and tears when the dressings were changed. Once the skin below was healed enough, the burned tissue had to be removed, that experience of going through that with him is traumaticaly recorded in my memory. Forever after those fingers were just not the same.  He tried, and tried, putting them in, moving them around, one finger, maybe 2 fingers, he tried the other hand even. But that comfy just right fit was gone. As was his one method of self soothing.

When we were at dinner, and saw the baby do the same exact thing.  We were word-less. Maybe it was just a fluke thing.  We looked away, then anther sideways glance again downward, and those same two fingers were tucked in her mouth, being sucked on, and the result was a soothed baby.

Genetics? We aren’t sure.  What we do know, is no matter how different they are, there is no mistaking they are sibs, and that they have a connection that is just between them.  And I like it.