What Are You Thinking?

The other night, my husband and I actually had some time to watch TV together. I know, shocking. Well, it figures there weren't many options we could agree upon, but in our channel-surfing we stumbled upon the turn-of-the-Millennium classic, What Women Want. When I first saw this movie back in 2000 I thought it was funny, but there was nothing exceptionally memorable about it. Strange how you can watch the same movie at different points in your life and be struck by something unique each time. The first time I watched it, Jenna would have been two years old. Definitely wouldn't have noticed the same details then, but I'll tell you what it brought to mind this time.

I thought about how badly I wanted to communicate with my first baby. How, when she was little, I longed to feel her little arms wrap around my neck, longed to feel the warmth of her breath as her tiny mouth whispered "I love you" in my ear. I wanted to watch her splash around in the bathtub and, yes, make a huge slippery mess on the bathroom floor. I wanted her to recognize the comfort of my embrace as she nestled beneath the covers, wanted her to feel cozy and safe in the crook of my arm while I read her a bed-time story. I wanted normalcy: discipline problems and playgroups and a sparkle of recognition in her eyes when she saw her birthday gifts colorfully displayed on the table, or her Christmas presents artfully arranged under the tree. I wanted her to ask about Santa and the Easter Bunny. I wanted her to ask the why questions so I could show her just how smart her mommy is :) and yes, become a role model for her. I didn't know how to respond to this little human being who couldn't let me into her world, who couldn't tell me what she was thinking.

So when I watched this movie, I started to wonder about how Jenna thinks. See, in this movie (for those of you who haven't seen it), Mel Gibson gets electrocuted and something bizarre happens: he's able to hear women's thoughts. Whether he's passing them on the street or staring them down in the conference room, he's able to look at them and know exactly what they're thinking. Sometimes I've longed to have this super-power, but then I wonder how much it would help me communicate with Jenna. I mean, think about it. Now, while you're thinking, think about HOW you're thinking. Bet you're thinking in sentences. Or at least with words. But what happens when your vocabulary is limited to basic needs, like "I want to eat," or "Lay down now," or an all-time favorite, "Watch TV NOW!"? How do you make sense of your world if you can't use language as your crutch? Babies communicate very simply. They cry when they're hungry, dirty, tired or hurting. They feel these needs, they don't just think them. That's fine when you're a baby and no one expects things of you like sorting blocks or coloring in the lines, counting coins or going potty on the toilet. That stuff takes effort. It takes order.

Even if I could hear Jenna's thoughts, what, exactly, would I hear? Words pulled from memory, colliding with one another in a frenzied attempt to make sense within her brain? Or an intrusive buzzing noise distracting her from her thought process, exasperating her ability to think beyond its persistent presence? How confusing the world must be for her. How difficult the simple tasks of everyday living. I've never really thought about language's pervasive role in our thinking process, but this movie served as a reminder. I mean, how could Mel have known what these women were thinking if he didn't share their vocabulary? Their language system?

At one point in the movie, Mel walks by a girl jogging in the park who wonders if she turned her coffee pot off. I don't drink coffee, but I can remember leaving the house in a rush, then wondering if I left the garage door open. And I remember the embarrassment I felt when I had to ask someone to head over and check for me! I hope Jenna thinks these complex thoughts someday. I hope she wonders if she left her coffee pot on, or her garage door open, and I hope - if that day comes - she's able to call me for help.

Because I would gladly - GLADLY! - go check for her!