Babies In The Rain: A Quiet Rant Against
Swings, Exersaucers, and Bouncy Seats
The dibble-dibble-dop-dop of warm rain on his head
and face call forth squeals of delight as his eyes widen and gleam,
his legs and arms flap with joy. As soon as his hands and knees
touch the deck he ventures forward a foot or so, pausing to examine
his wet fingers and then pound them against the wood. Fine droplets
of water spray up each time his curious palms strike the surface.
His little brain is fully engaged in this moment as his senses relay
information: The sight of a billion raindrops dancing in the spring
breeze, the sound of their contact with the deck, the taste of the
drops that hit is lips and tongue, the heavy smell of wet grass and
mulch drifting from the yard, the feel of the rain and breeze on his
arms and legs.
CRACK...lightning and then thunder fill the sky. He lurches back into a sitting position and, lower lip quivering, repeatedly shifts his gaze from my eyes to the clouded sky. He sees I am not alarmed by the sound and fury of the approaching storm. We exchange smiles and he returns to his gleeful splashing. After another incredible ten minutes or so, the storm intensifies and we head back inside to a large white fluffy towel and some cuddle time.
Infants belong in the rain. They belong outside in the grass and dirt. They belong on the floor with materials that will engage their senses and minds--stimulating them, but not over-stimulating them the way too many of today’s “educational” toys tend to do. They belong in the loving arms of calm, happy, focused caregivers who are in tune with the child’s needs. They belong in environments that promote developmentally appropriate play, exploration, and discovery. They belong in settings where they are looked upon as curious, thinking, contemplative, emotional, complex individuals. They belong on their tummies, bottoms, hands and knees, and finally their unstable feet as they get to know their world.
Instead, too many babies are spending large chunks of their waking hours confined to swings, seats, exersaucers, and the like because, for whatever reason, their caregiver feels this is appropriate. Some infants are spending their entire days in confining apparatuses without any chance to work their muscles and minds. This equipment can be a lifesaver for parents and providers, especially if there are multiple infants in care. It may help make the day easier for caregivers--vibrating bouncy seats and musical swings lulling babies to sleep, exersuacers confining and entertaining them--but there is a growing body of research that indicates overuse of such equipment can also delay development.
Since baby brains are so resilient, these delays are probably only short term. Once the clever little tykes outgrow the confines of the restrictive gear they will scoot, crawl, and toddle around making up for lost time. They will fill in the gaps in their budding physical skills and knowledge of the world. Then again, the infant confined to a swing in the corner of a room for much of the first four months of her life may have a really difficult time catching up on the hands-on social bonding and interaction she missed.
I have to admit that my wife and I used--sparingly--some of this equipment with our own children; I there are times it can come in very handy. Now, the only piece of baby equipment we keep around is a bouncy seat that is called to duty with infants who are congested or are “spitty”; we find it helps their snot drain and their tummies settle after eating. If the babies we care for are not sleeping in a crib, they are either in our arms or on the floor surrounded by developmentally appropriate materials and all the sights, sounds, and interactions within reach of their busy senses, actively participating in the environment we have created for them.
The radical caregiver in me wants to urge parents and providers alike to take to the streets and torch their odious baby gear. In my minds eye, I see them dancing around a blazing bonfire singing pro-play chants and carry homemade signs reading “Down With Babies!” and “1, 3, 6, 9, Babies Need Tummy Time!” Then, on top of the blazing swings and bouncy seats they toss all the too-loud, overly stimulating, annoying, electronic “learning toys” thy have felt obligated to purchase. The next day the baby-industrial complex quakes at the thought of their lost revenue as the impassioned caregivers embrace simpler, child centered play and learning materials.
While part of me wishes for this mass uprising, I realize it just isn’t going to happen. Besides, the pollution created by all that burning plastic would be horrendous. I guess all I really hope for is that some readers of this rant will work more tummy time into the days of the children for which they care; more chances for infants to explore their worlds; more opportunities to expose babies to rain and see what happens.
