I always thought it was funny how we can’t remember being babies. I understand why we can’t, but it seems a terrible joke on us. As a baby, your face alone brings immeasurable joy to so many people. There are times in life when I want nothing more than to make someone happy and I realize I was 100005% better at it at I time I can’t even sort of remember. I have to wonder if I ever made anyone as happy as I did when I was a barely living baby. When my actions were running mostly on automatic. When it appeared as though my smiles and laughter were set on a random timer that reset after each action. When my happiness and sadness were just as unpredictable.
I’m walking around with theory of mind. I consider how every action will make you feel. I feel as though I have control over myself or, at the very least, my behavior. I’m aware of what you like and love. I’m aware of how to make you laugh. I know what to do to make you happy. And what does all this get me? Less than it got me to roll over. Or lift my head on my own. Or make noises that didn’t resemble words.
Well, at least I can think about it and laugh.