Monday, November 24, 2008

Baby, people and coffee

Ah, it’s finally feels like fall here in Southern California. After what seemed like an eternal summer, this last Sunday I woke up to a chilly and overcast morning. The type that you wake up and suddenly realize that the sheets and comforter have transformed into the most luxurious fabric your body has ever felt, and so you snuggle deeper in, bringing them up right above your content smile and still sleepy eyes and snooze for another few hours.

Normally, that’s what weekend mornings were like…pre-Max.

Now, our weekend morning consist of waking up around 6am (or earlier, unfortunately), plucking him from his crib only a mere foot and a half from my side, and quickly fitting him snugly between Jeremy and I so that we can squeeze another thirty minutes or so of partial sleep.

That is, until he becomes utterly bored, restless and hungry and makes it known by squirming, screeching, smacking us in the face and yanking hair. Add to that the cat obnoxiously walking all over us, meowing for food….who needs an alarm?

By 7am, the boy was fed, changed and content. Oh and the cat got some food, too.

But, now Jeremy and I were getting hungry, and cereal wasn’t sounding so appetizing. Also, we were out of milk. So, I suggested we take a walk to the coffee shop a few blocks away - one of the perks of living walking distance to ‘old town’.

We bundled Max up, putting him in a new red zippered sweater (thanks to my sister Clea who knows what cold is living in CO) and then grabbed the stroller, but only after returning to the apartment for our own sweaters (it was chilly!).

It was a beautiful early morning. No one was around, the wild green parrots squawked, and the fog was thick around us, causing the street ahead to disappear in the distance. These are my favorite type of mornings :)

Fortunately, when we got to the coffee shop and ordered our drinks from a surprisingly curt lady, we found the only two leather chairs in the place. As I sipped my splurge of a peppermint latte, I began to people watch. This is my favorite type of watching :)

Since we sat next to the door, it was hard for someone entering or exiting the place to ignore the chubby and obviously adorable baby sitting on our lap.

However, not one, but two random people came and went without so much of a glance over to the babbling cute baby. It wasn’t because they were busy or lost in thought. Usually you can read those people. No, these people took a quick glance and then averted their eyes as if the Ark of the Covenant was opened and quickly scuttled out the door before their faces melted*.

*For new readers, Elly is a geek.

Eyeing these bystanders, I’ve come to realize that there are different types of “baby people”.

On one extreme of my theory are the “I’m just so not a baby” person.


These people either fear, hate or are indifferent to babies. They’d sooner pick up a strange dog off the street and let them lick their own face than dare touch a baby.

One example of such people was a couple who sat to our left, with both their noses stuck in a newspaper. As soon as they saw us begin to pack up, the lady turned to us and asked if were leaving, obviously eyeing our comfy chairs. As she stood over us like a vulture over a slowly dying rabbit, she looked over at Max who was being placed back in his stroller.

“How old is that?” she asked out of politeness.

‘That?!” I thought, as if Max were a lamp or cookie left on a plate.

Realizing her awkward choice of words, she quickly attached “boy” to the end of her question, only enhancing the odd pause.

“Five months,” I flatly say in annoyance, continuing to strap Max in.

“Ah,” she finished, followed by silence.

She was obviously not a baby person.

On the other extreme are the “Oh my God, what a chubby wubby wittle baby, yes you are!” people.

Of course one such Mother Hen sniffed Max out from the other side of the shop and suddenly appeared beside me out of nowhere and began to talk intensely without taking her eyes off Max.

“Oh, don’t you just love all the little sounds they make? I just love them, so precious! Oh, aren’t you precious! Yes you are! Yes you are! You should be recording all the sounds they make. I only wish I did that with my kids. They make such cute and sweet little noises and coos,” the lady passionately exclaimed.

As if on cue, Max screeched his prehistoric Terradactyl call to her. The lady squealed with excitement as I proceeded to wrap my arms tighter around him.*

*Warning: These type of people should be closely watched when around babies.

Now there are people somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. These were the people that acknowledged Max with a smile and possibly a subtle ‘Aww, how cute’ and continued on their way. This is the category I usually fall into, and I’m sure most others do, too. I'm sure there's other categories in the spectrum that I'll come across sooner or later.

I think this theory can be used with dogs and cats, too.

Which reminds me; there’s a lady that wonders around the town and hangs out outside the grocery store, pushing a stroller.

With a cat in it.

A real cat.


Gotta love people!