metaphortunate son (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
metaphortunate) wrote2011-09-26 06:07 pm
metaphortunate) wrote2011-09-26 06:07 pm
Entry tags:
amaze me
Watching the Junebug come online really drives home why our brains are massively overclocked pattern-finding engines. He has this double-helix rattle, right? And the other day, I was trying to see if he would figure out that when he shakes it, sound happens. So he was lying on his back and I was sitting next to him, holding it up in front of him, and sometimes wiggling it a little. And he would bat it sometimes, and sometimes he would either grasp it, or get his fingers tangled up in it - I'm not sure there's a clear line between the two at this point - and shake it a few times, which might be deliberate movement, or might be the usual kind of Brownian motion of his limbs that he has going on. And then drop it. And I would pick it back up.
And as I was doing this, and watching him, I became aware of all the sounds that were going on. Mr. E was in the kitchen cooking, so there were sounds of chopping, and bags rustling, and the fridge door opening and closing. And our neighbor upstairs was walking around. And there was traffic outside, and the Junebug himself was making cooing* and snorfling noises. And I wanted him to pick out this one specific little high-pitched sound - which also happened when he wasn't even holding the rattle, when I was moving the rattle - and make the connection that it happened when he was moving the rattle. I mean, my god. No wonder people find the Virgin Mary's face in grilled cheese sandwiches. It's not that much more unlikely. And yet if you want our brains to figure out anything as implausible as causation, this is the only way.
*This is a phase! The cooing phase comes before the babbling phase. I believe they call it "cooing" because that sounds more attractive than the "weird moaning" phase. One time I was nursing him and Mr. E turned to me and said "You're moaning." And I was, but I was just mimicking the noises he makes. It's just that they're much cuter on him. I'm just happy that he makes noises now other than sobbing.
And as I was doing this, and watching him, I became aware of all the sounds that were going on. Mr. E was in the kitchen cooking, so there were sounds of chopping, and bags rustling, and the fridge door opening and closing. And our neighbor upstairs was walking around. And there was traffic outside, and the Junebug himself was making cooing* and snorfling noises. And I wanted him to pick out this one specific little high-pitched sound - which also happened when he wasn't even holding the rattle, when I was moving the rattle - and make the connection that it happened when he was moving the rattle. I mean, my god. No wonder people find the Virgin Mary's face in grilled cheese sandwiches. It's not that much more unlikely. And yet if you want our brains to figure out anything as implausible as causation, this is the only way.
*This is a phase! The cooing phase comes before the babbling phase. I believe they call it "cooing" because that sounds more attractive than the "weird moaning" phase. One time I was nursing him and Mr. E turned to me and said "You're moaning." And I was, but I was just mimicking the noises he makes. It's just that they're much cuter on him. I'm just happy that he makes noises now other than sobbing.
no subject
My daughter went through a phase at around that age where she made weird little chattering, squeaking noises. We called her Dolphin Baby.