Why do we wave?

The Naan Bread has started waving, and granddad is excited. Over the course of a week, senior waved at junior every time they passed one another. At the start of the week Naan Bread just looked on impassively, by the end of the week he waved back.

What happened here? Why does a baby wave? Has he learned the social function of the gesture? Is he imitating his grandfather? Partly for sure, but to see him do it you would think there were somehow more to it than that. Imitation suggests something that is (at least at first) external; something that one is trying out. The Naan Bread's waving seems more organic than that. That is, when he waves, it seems that the action he is learning comes partly from his efforts to copy his grandfather, and partly from something he simply feels the need to do. What is it about waving that a baby already knows to do, or wants to do?

Looking at Naan Bread, it seems that waving is only partly a gesture, something intended for the benefit of someone else; extending an arm and waggling it for a communicative purpose. Before waving comes reaching, something we do mainly for ourselves. Reaching isn't really social. Reaching in babies can be positively anti social. "I want THAT. I need it". Arm out, grab it. If I can get it then great. If I can't, then I might scream in uncontrolled indignation.

Babies want stuff (food, toys, hot cups of tea), but they also want people. "There's MUMMY!" *reach*. You might reach too, if you couldn't say something along the lines of "come over here a minute, I'd like a word". Naan Bread was reaching for people quite some time before he was waving at them. "You there, hey you!" What it looked like to me, when he started waving proper, was that suddenly, this extended arm didn't need to come into contact with its target to garner some satisfaction.

Reaching becomes waving when, instead of successfully grasping a thing, you realise you can flap your hand in its direction and still get a reaction. Admittedly food and toys do not respond (it is still necessary to reach for them), but over time you come to see that people wave back! How great is that? Partial gratification from an action you already had basically down.

Dad Points

We are boarding a plane from London to  New York. I have the Naan Bread strapped to my front with a muslin cloth strategically draped over his head to keep the fluorescent lighting at bay. An auntie-like air hostess (why is there no female equivalent of "avuncular"?) smiles warmly at me. "What a good daddy!" she says. "I don't know yet" I pathetically quip "we'll find out in 18 years". It's your typical lovely-plane-boarding interaction; all beaming smiles and excessive cheer to sweeten the pill of seven hours sat in a can. I hope I'm a good dad; who doesn't? But all I have done to merit the compliment is strap my baby to my chest. Isn't the bar set a little low?

The Mum Whose Head Expanded says she agrees with the hostess, but she is also a little bemused. She has the Naan Bread strapped to her a lot more often than I do and no-one has yet found that sufficient reason to compliment her on her parenting. This is an asymmetry that is turning out to be typical of learning to be a mum and dad. 

At least in the US and the UK we tend to think of ourselves as people who love mums (check out John Oliver's brilliant segment about Mother's Day for an exploration of this phenomenon) but this is nothing compared to the praise and affection lavished on a dad who shows any involvement whatsoever with their children. Mum is a basic need, her task unavoidable. If she fails her baby, it may die, but even if she is really impressive she is easily overlooked. If she tries to have a career, she runs the risk of trying to "have it all". Dad, whose right to a career was never in doubt, is a hero just for showing up. He is strong, he is busy, he has other things on his mind, BUT LOOK HE IS CUDDLING THE BABY!

Nothing sums up the situation as well as Spencer Rowell's photo-poster L'Enfant:

I guess historically we dads were too apt to carry on as though nothing much had changed with the birth of our children, leaving mum to do the hard work and treating the baby as an amusement at best and a problem to be solved at worst (think of Captain Von Trapp drilling his children to ensure maximum household efficiency). Compared to that, any hint of affection and involvement (and The Sound of Music is itself a great cultural example of the way we have come to value emotional investment from fathers) is bound to seem amazing. In short the bar is low, because we helped to set it in the first place!

Perhaps it's no great problem that dads receive such encouragement. I sure felt a glow after being cheer-led onto my flight, and parenting is worth encouraging. But presently this focus on dads comes at the expense of mums, who are seldom praised so highly.