Did any of you ever watch Everybody Loves Raymond? I’m seeing a few hands go up in the back.
I’ve seen every episode. If you watched the series, you probably remember the ridiculous (ly funny) episodes surrounding Robert and Amy’s wedding (spoiler alert, Robert and Amy got married. Like ten years ago). Anyway, there are a lot of things that go wrong. Amy’s brother intentionally doesn’t pick up the priest to try and ruin the wedding. Marie stands up and gives a speech about how maybe they shouldn’t get married DURING THE CEREMONY. Frank was Frank.
By the time Robert and Amy make it to their reception they walk in like two shell-shocked scarecrows. Basically the whole thing was a disaster (as sitcom weddings are wont to be).
When it comes time for Ray to give his best man toast he talks about how the best thing Amy and Robert can do is employ some editing when they’re saving the memories of the day. Maybe forget about Marie interrupting the ceremony and Frank complaining about the lack of a free bar.
Ray finishes his toast with:
“I remember my wedding day as the day that I got to kiss the most beautiful girl in the world. I think she remembers it. At least I hope she does. It was a good day. The start of a lot of good memories. We completely blotted out the part where Mom was hangin’ onto my pants leg yelling “Don’t go! don’t go!” Yeah. We didn’t save those pictures. Just the good ones. Just the good ones.”
Last night I was incredibly melancholy. Charlie is really officially seriously teething, so she spends a lot of the day yelling at me and just generally unhappy, and it’s the first thing that I can’t fix with a tight swaddle or a boob, or a nap. Teething just sucks. Cold stuff works for a minute or two. Then it doesn’t work. Teethers are the same. We’re not napping well, sleeping well, eating well. None of it.
And yesterday we spent literally the whole afternoon hanging baby pictures. I now have a wall of Charlie. And the pictures are all from our newborn shoot, when she was so tiny. And last night as I sat and stared at the wall of Charlie, I begin to miss that feeling in an visceral sort of way. I don’t want her to teeth, because I don’t want to lose that tiny baby gummy smile. Every moment and milestone is just a step away from the happiest second of my life, which is when she was put in my arms.
Here’s the thing-I miss my newborn. I don’t want ANOTHER newborn (at least not right now), I just want to go back 4.5 months and hold mine again. I don’t want a new baby, I want new baby Charlie.
And this probably sounds awful because I don’t want to trade 4.5 month old Charlie in for newborn Charlie, I just want to have magical time traveling power so that I can go back and hold her when she was that small again. I love 4.5 month old Charlie. I love her giggles and her smiles, and her cuddles and even her trickiness.
And I know that I have edited out so much about those early days. I’ve edited out the bathroom struggles, the breastfeeding heartache, the literal shaking that would occur when someone else held my baby too long. I’ve edited out the few nights we had where I didn’t know how to make her happy and I’d wake Chief up crying. i’ve edited out how scared I was. It’s all fuzzy. It’s on the cutting room floor. In a few more months I may not remember it at all.
Editing means that in a few months I probably won’t remember these early days of teething that are so hard on all of us. I won’t remember crying in the front seat of the car tonight because I can’t seem to make my girl happy right now. I won’t remember sitting melancholy on the couch desperate to feel newborn Charlie in my arms again. Editing means I’ll hold onto the good ones.
Just the good ones.