Thursday, January 27, 2011

The Color Yellow

Charlotte loves the color yellow...

Believe me, the irony has not escaped me. As a child, I was afraid of the color yellow... Yes, I was afraid... of a color... Strange, I know.

You see, the color yellow reminded me of throwing up... So, whenever I saw the color yellow, I would begin to gag. I have distinct memories of sitting in the grocery cart with my eyes closed, asking my mom to tell me when we were out of the mustard aisle. To this day, I can't eat mustard...

And then there was the grilled cheese sandwich...

When I was about three, my parents took us to a Bob's Big Boy... It wasn't unusual for us to go out to restaurants, and Bob's Big Boy was one of our favorites, after all, it had a life-size statue of Bob in the entrance... We were always allowed to order our own meals, but on this occasion, my parents ordered for us... And they ordered grilled cheese... When it came, I took one look at it and saw its oozing, yellow insides and my stomach started to turn. Beg and plead as I might, my parents insisted that I eat at least two bites... No arguements... This was non-negotiable... And so I did... I ate two bites of a grilled cheese sandwich... and 25 years passed before I tried it again.

Over the years, my fear of the color yellow slowly faded to a dislike and then an apathy and then just a quirky memory. Every once in a while, the subject would come up at family dinners, and I would tease my sister for chasing me around the house with yellow crayons just to watch me scream.

So, I had to laugh the first time I saw Charlotte get excited about yellow. There was a yellow can of pizza sauce sitting on our kitchen table while we were having dinner one night. Charlotte was sitting in my lap when she started making lots of noises. When Charlotte is very interested in something, or in deep concentration, she stretches out her neck, sticks out her chin and makes chewing motions with her mouth... This evening her little mouth couldn't keep up with her excitement and her energy burst out in a flurry of quick jerks and movements from her arms and legs. She startled us at first, because she had never had this reaction before. We'd hide the can and she calmed down... We'd show it to her and she would go crazy...

After that evening, I began to pay attention... It wasn't long before I began to notice that when given the option to look at different colors, her eyes would always go to yellow. I took her to her grandparents' restaurant one night and showed her a whole shelf of yellow cans. She was mesmerized. When she would get fussy, I would just show her a can, and she would calm right down.

So I'm going to stock up on sauce. Then, when we have those days when the fussiness takes over and the whining gets almost unbearable, we won't have to turn any further than our kitchen pantry, and to the yellow cans on the shelves to calm down our little girl... at least for a neck-stretching, chin-sticking-out, fake-chewing moment or two!

The magical bear suit

Charlotte has a magical bear suit...

Shortly after I found out that I was pregnant, I went to Babies-R-Us, that monopoly of baby periphenalia, most of which has been designed to terrify you into investing three paychecks worth of money into baby proofing supplies and healthy baby trends. I had been there before, when my friends were expecting and I had to make the requisite trip to pick up a present. Navigating the baby registry and the convoluted aisles takes close to a PhD to accomplish successfully.

But this trip was for me... My morning sickness was in full swing and I had heard about this wonderful product called "Preggie Pops" that promised to help relieve my nauseous symptoms. Desperate for relief, I  ventured in...

The "Preggie Pops" were surprisingly easy to find. Picking up the last bag, I decided to wander around the store. I found my way to the clothing section, and then to the clearance rack... Tim and I had decided that we weren't going to find out what we were having, so I knew picking out clothes would be difficult (and at this point, a bit premature!) But I wanted to look anyways.

On the bottom of the rack of boys clothes, I saw a bear suit. I realized that I had seen one of these before. I had been at a doctor's appointment when I saw a woman there with a small child. I never saw the child's face, but he was wearing this exact bear suit. There were little ears on top of the head and little padded feet and I thought this was the most adorable thing I had ever seen... And now I had found the bear suit!

I checked the tag and realized it would be the right size for when winter came around again, so I bought it, took it home and stuck it in my closet. Little did I know how  important this bear suit would be to our little family.

Now, a year later, Charlotte wears this bear suit all the time. After the first few days of dressing her in it to take her places in the cold weather, we realized that she is practically narcoleptic in it. For a baby that never naps, we had finally found the key ingredient to getting her to sleep. Five minutes in the bear suit does the trick...  She will sleep for hours.

Now the phrase, "If you want her to sleep, stick her in the bear suit" accompanies every baby sitter drop off.

As she is getting bigger, I start to wonder what will happen when she outgrows her bear suit. How will we get her to sleep? Maybe I will track down the manufacturer and beg them to create the bear suit in sizes that will fit her well into adulthood! And while I'm at it, I'll buy one for myself too, cause it looks so very comfy!

But until that happens, I'll just enjoy the peaceful moments that settle on our house when she is fast asleep, bundled up in her little, magical bear suit!


In the moment...

Charlotte discovered something last night... Diapers... Sure, she has one plastered around her little bum almost 24 hours a day, but last night she actually discovered them. I had set one on the changing table next to her head as Tim was changing her diaper. Quite accidently, she picked it up. Once in her hand, she stared very intently at it. Amazed by its relative size versus its light weight, she began to swing it around in the air. Almost immediately she slapped herself in the face with it. I watched with interest, expecting her to get fussy...

But she didn't. She smiled. Then she started waving her hand frantically, slapping herself over and over again in the face. And then she started to laugh. Her laugh is contagious, sounding more like she's happily hyperventilating, rather than laughing. We couldn't help but join in. She took this as encouragement, and the diaper flew even more rapidly at her face, and her legs began to kick. By this point, she was shrieking with delight.

The thing about babies is that they live completely in the moment. With no long term memory to speak of, they approach each experience with a clean slate. These moments that mean so much to me, are not being retained by her. One day they will be... One day she will be able to remember the silly moments... She will remember the laughter... But not yet... For now, I will store these moments up in my heart... And as I fall asleep at night, I will replay them. And maybe, just maybe, I'll hear that sweet little laughter in my sleep.