1m2aSandbox

The day started off completely ordinary,
with no hint of the extraordinary event that would indelibly mark
my child’s memories, scar her psyche, for the rest of her
life. Here on out, my daughter’s life will be split –
the Pre and Post-Apocalypse clearly delineated in her mind.

When you’re in the midst of
babyhood, you become an expert on whatever situation is most
present in your life. For example, if your child’s about to
start crawling, you’re a walking Consumer Reports issue of
all the best babyproofing gear. When you introduce solid foods, you
can reel off the list of high-allergy foods and when to introduce
them in your sleep. And during baby’s first bout with
constipation? You’re a virtual medical encyclopedia of home
remedies.

Cora is now seven weeks old, and according
to the sleep “experts”, she’s slept through the
night several times.


According to the people in the trenches (a.k.a. Mommy and Daddy),
those experts are not so well acquainted with the English language,
and what “sleeping through the night” means.

At the park recently, Maddie and I were
waiting for our turn at the water fountain – also known as
the water balloon-maker. Maddie always wants to make several water
balloons, then simply carry them around in her hands for the sheer
delight of the way they feel. On days when the water
fountain’s in high demand, I’ll make one water balloon,
then have Maddie step to the back of the line and let others have
their turn. This keeps the other kids from becoming antsy, teaches
Maddie patience and makes her be sure she really needs six
balloons.


On this particular day, we were waiting behind one little girl who
made a battalion of balloons. Maddie was patient and had just begun
to step up for her turn when a little boy ran up, cutting her off.
“Excuse me,” I said to him politely, “But
we’ve been waiting and I think we’re next.”

As Madeleine grows up she becomes more and
more adept at seeing a person’s face and figuring out what
they’re feeling. Whenever we sit down and read books we spend
almost as much time talking about the pictures as we do reading the
text. No longer content to simply have a story spun for her, she
wants to understand what she’s seeing, and asks copious
questions to that end.

With Cora safely across the six-week
threshold, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that we’ve
seen the worst of the newborn behavior, though of course
she’s cried for several hours today. But setting today aside,
she’s been doing pretty well and I’ve been enjoying my
“refresher course” in Newborns 101. Here are just a few
interesting tidbits I forgot (sometimes as a survival mechanism, I
think!) about newborn babies:

So Ingrid and I were in the park last week
watching our girls play, as we do every day. We noticed a small
film crew in the corner but didn’t think much of it.
Ingrid’s daughter Naomi wandered over to the rainbow
fountain, which was turned off due to cool weather, and began
happily banging on it with her Dora doll while Maddie ran around
collecting rocks for her stroller (don’t ask).


Ingrid and I were busily gabbing –er, exchanging mothering
tips – and had half an eye on what the girls were doing. When
Naomi began banging Ingrid’s back was to her, but I saw a
production assistant from the film crew run over, grab Naomi by the
arm, and start hissing, “No no no, little girl. You
can’t do that right now.” And without thinking of the
consequences, I blurted out, “Oh, no she DIDN’T just do
that to Naomi!”