Monday’s Child

Monday’s child is fair of face and, she is; when the nurses brought her to me they told me she was the prettiest baby in the nursery. But she wasn’t the quietest. She started screaming early and often. The babysitter christened her “Screaming Mimi” and said she would only stop screaming to sleep and eat. The other parents would cover their ears and rush their kids out of the house at pickup time. Miss Sherry, her babysitter was a tough and practical woman who probably suffered hearing loss. One day I arrived to pick her up and was startled to find that her diaper was duct taped shut with many, many crisscrossed pieces of tape. Earlier that day my daughter learned to remove her own diaper and decided to, euphemistically paint, but, more accurately, slather her body and her playpen with her poo. Shortly after, around two years old, she learned to undress herself fully and casually strolled naked into the living room to greet our newspaper carrier Aldrich, ignoring my embarrassed, urgent whispers to get out of sight.

She’s always been a good eater. After she got the hang of eating rice cereal she wouldn’t close her mouth till it was filled. She knew the feel of a full mouth. She’s a messy eater and, even now, I can always tell what she’s eaten by looking at the smears on her face. Her first restaurant outing was to a Chinese restaurant in Miami. She loved the food and then proceeded to have explosive diarrhea all over my lap. Her body has no tolerance for greasy food. On our last outing together we had delicious pizza at Artichoke Basile in the East Village and, afterwards, she threw up multiple times, feeding all the trees, along 34^th street. She did it with grace and style, barely pausing our conversation.

The little traitor’s first words were, “dada”.

She tried to play the violin in elementary school and again in high school. Mr. DiPaola asked for his violin back. She appreciates music though and plans on marrying a musician.

She wants to be a leader. When she was four she came home from the sitter’s heartbroken and crying because her friend, Devan, had called her a copycat. She loves being a big sister. She announced, right before her brother was born, that he should be named “Macaroni head”. She has a little sister that she sometimes butts heads with but that she knows she can always rely on. On her first day of kindergarten and college I sent her off with a small piece of “bunbun”, her blankie, to make sure that she had some of the comfort and security of home with her.

She’s had good role models and, thankfully, is surrounded by tough, resilient women. The irony is that I’ve raised her to be independent and am so surprised and scared when she is so independent. She makes big decisions and moves forward through college, jobs and now states. She’s a strong woman with a capricious temperament and although I’m sometimes afraid of her 🙂 I’m always incredibly proud of her.