Today, I was rocking Sasha trying to get her to nap. (I was ultimately unsuccessful.) I watched her stare off into the distance, face pensive, little fingers curling and uncurling, and I wondered: What does she think about?
I imagine every parent considers this problem at some point or another. At that particular moment, she was probably not really thinking about anything. Most likely, she was full of a sort of drowsy, Tao contentment with her lot in life. Not so different from how I used to be at around 10 o'clock of a Sunday morning, back when I was still in bed that late.
But how does she think? She doesn't speak words, but does she use some rudimentary proto-language to help her process her surroundings? She can clearly develop desires and goals, (pulling all the DVDs out of the rack; climbing up all the stairs) so she is capable of some abstraction. She has a sense of judgement, to evaluate what she likes and dislikes and react appropriately (she is loud when she is comfortable, but very quiet and observant in an unfamiliar situation). She can interact with other people (flirting and being shy, in turn).
She is learning about and exploring the world in a very methodical, logical, scientific fashion. There's somebody home, no doubt. But... I know that I have the narrator in my head, the "I" who is speaking to me, when I am thinking; the voice that tells me my thoughts as I have them. What does Sasha have? Is it all a succession of images and feelings? Does she mentally make use of the words she knows, but doesn't know how to say? Does she have a narrator? When she cries, is there a baby crying in her head to let her know she is upset?
Unfortunately, since it is difficult to have the meaningful kind of communication with a child her age that would illuminate these matters, I will probably never find out. A mystery for the ages. But one thing I am sure of: At the very least, she knows that she is happy.
Posted by andrea at April 23, 2003 09:02 PM