Where the babies are

By Eric Steiman

Photo by Julie Hogue

The Steiman family at Riverview Park Photo by Julie Hogue

I love babies…really. Man, do I love babies.

There, I said it. I’m a man, and I get all soft around babies.

Recently my family and I were at a gathering of friends, when one of them remarked (as I was bent over a high chair), “If there’s a baby in the room, that’s where you’ll find Eric.”

And it is true. I loves me some babies. So much so, I get the “warm fuzzies” around pregnant women. Either I was destined to have four children, or having them has made me this way. My four are three boys and a girl, ages 12, 10, 7 and 5, respectively. I love babies so intensely that my wife, Stephanie, trusted me to deliver number four (my baby girl) at home, in our backyard—a story about which, if you ask me, I will gladly give you the details.

I love babies to the point where I’ve changed the diapers of kids that weren’t even mine! (Having a really strong stomach also comes in handy.) But it’s the look that gets me every time—the look from a child who instinctively understands you are there to help and keep him safe and warm, something that can’t be taken for granted.

I love the way babies smell (most of the time). I love the feel of their brand-new skin, and the sounds they make, especially when they’re sleeping. After babies, the next best things are toddlers—right up to the point where they learn to talk. That’s when the work really begins. Watching every day open up for a toddler, like presents under a Christmas tree (I’m Jewish, by the way) is a gift that never gets old.

It has taken me several years to begin to understand the give and take that comes with raising children (and, believe me, I’ve still got way to go). Unconditional Love is the only avenue to travel with your children. The trip down that road happens so fast that, before you know it, your toddler is approaching his teenage years and your baby is in kindergarten. As much as I’m enjoying watching my kids grow, I truly miss those sweet, snuggly, cooing babies.

There are only two subjects I feel I can speak about with any sense of understanding: kids and carpentry. I’ve had lots of experience working with kids during my teenage and young adult years, and of course with my own brood for the last 13. I’ve also been in the building trades for 25 years, with my specialty in remodeling. Along the way, I’ve decided there are a lot of similarities between building a home and “building” a family.

First off, no plans, no matter how complete or thought-through, are ever either. You must stick to your “foundation” and your core beliefs about the process—and, at the same time, you must be as flexible as Elastigirl from The Incredibles in your efforts to reach the finished project. You realize that you can’t control the world at large, only the way you react to whatever the world sends your way. (We all know what they say about “the best-laid plans…”)

Like every home, every child has its own unique character, but when you look closely, you can see the imprint from the builders that raised them. And both homes and children require constant attention and maintenance to weather the storms of Mother Nature and Father Time.

As my children have grown, I have learned and grown so much by their mere presence. At the same time, I’ve been able to remain, in many ways, a child myself, by playing with them and living through their eyes.

Yes, I do love babies. Am I going to have more? Are you crazy!?! I am done. I guess it’s time to make “that” appointment. Until I get grandchildren of my own, you’ll find me “where the babies are.”