Monday, March 1, 2010
Little Miss Noise Maker and Her New Best Friend, Gragger!!!
People love music. But babies love noise. They really, really love it. Nothing makes Bean happier than banging on her drum, running around the hallway with her pink poppity-pop popper, or just hearing herself scream her brand new lungs out. But nothing beats the sweet sounds of this past Sunday. We took her to her first Purim party in a Soho loft. It was a good time. A packed house. Kids in costumes, face paint. Hamantashens and Graggers for all. Now, for my non-Jew friends out there, a Purim gragger is a metal noisemaker. Its only purpose in life is to make noise. A lot of noise. It sounds like a metallic rusted rattle. And the kids love them. Especially my kid. She was having the time of her nineteen-month-old life gragging away on her gragger. The only problem was that kids were only supposed to shake their gragger when Haman's (triangle-shaped hat-wearing evil biblical dude) name was mentioned during the reading of the Megilla to blot out the name of evil. Well, Bean was blotting out all of the evil in the universe. She wouldn't stop. She graggered through a puppet show, and soon after that, it was time to stroll home. But the graggering was just beginning. She graggered in her stroller. She graggered in her high-chair and in the tub. She even graggered in her Pj’s during story time. Every time I tried to take the gragger away from her, she wouldn't let go. She'd start whining and that was worse than gragerring. Then, came bed time. She still wasn't letting that thing out of her hand. So I said, the hell with this. I dumped her in her crib. Pacifier in mouth, blankie, stuffed Ozzy, and her new best friend, Gragger. I figured she'd eventually fall asleep. Eventually? Eventually when? Thirty minutes later, I could still hear the gentle graggering in the bedroom. Gragger. Gragger. When she eventually passed out, about thirty graggerings later, Brooke went into the bedroom to try and take it out of her little hand. Pry it, was more like it. She was holding that sucker tight. Brooke surrendered. As long as she was sleeping, all was good. Until later that night, about 2am, I thought I heard something coming from her crib. I got up and peaked. She was fine. She looked so cute, so peaceful, curled up on her side sucking an orange pacifier, holding her new best friend, Gragger.