"Baby song"

This morning we were playing outside on the lawn. Isaac and I were playing what he calls the "running game." The rules of the running game are, according to Isaac, "Mama chase you. Mama fall down." He runs away, and after I run after him for a while, I snatch at him, but I nearly always miss. Then I pretend to fall down, at which point Isaac stops running and says, "Hug!" Then he gives me a big hug. (He has empathy for those who fall down.)

Another part of the game is Isaac pushing me back down to the ground when I try to get up. He pushes very gently, almost reluctantly, or else I wouldn't have encouraged this part of the game. "Gosh, you're so strong!" I say to him. "You pushed me right over!"

When we weren't running, falling, hugging, or pushing, we were playing with the dog. (One of the disadvantages of the running game is that Walt likes to get involved as soon as I'm on the ground -- mostly by licking my face.) All in all, it was quite rambunctious -- what some people would think of as classic "boy" toddler play.

That's why it took me a moment to understand when Isaac said, "Sing baby song."

I had been throwing a ball for Walt, and I turned around in surprise. Isaac was standing by the swing (it's like a cushioned loveseat suspended from a metal frame) at the edge of the lawn, pushing it gently and rhythmically.

"What song is that?" I asked. "I don't know what the baby song is." He continued to push the swing, and as I watched it rock to and fro, I realized what he had meant. "Oh, you want to hear Rock-a-Bye Baby!" I said.

"Sing baby song on swing," Isaac said.

A few days earlier, he had hurt himself while we played outside, and I had comforted him by rocking him on the swing and singing Rock-a-Bye Baby. This time he wasn't injured or sad, but he wanted to hear the song anyway.

I sat down on the swing, and he sat on my lap, facing me. He put his arms around me and nestled his head on my shoulder. I put my arms around him, rocked the swing, and sang Rock-a-Bye Baby. All this tenderness was a sudden change from the boisterousness of our previous game, but the contrast made it even sweeter.

When I finished singing, Isaac didn't move, and he immediately said, "More song." I sang the song once more, and as soon as I was done, he said, "Again." I sang it six times before he finally lifted his head from my shoulder, ready to do something else.