Life Behind the Curve

A childhood friend posted as her Facebook status this question: “How long does it take for the smell of curry to get out of your house after you cook it?” I wanted to reply, “With luck, never.”

I decided not to because that response sounds so bizarre. The smell of curry to me, however, makes me as nostalgic for my oldest’s youth as does baby powder or Johnson & Johnson’s baby lotion.

When it neared time for me to return to work after having D, none of the handful of daycare centers we’d toured in downtown DC had openings because of their years-long waiting lists. (Diplotots, the State Department’s daycare center, had a 2 year wait list for the infant room. Pregnancy lasts 9 months, you do the math and tell me how that is logical.) I turned to my employee assistance program and got the name of a number of in-home child care providers and scheduled time to meet them.

We fell in love with the second one we talked to. Her name was Rajwan, but she asked us to call her Raj. She had a graduate degree in early childhood education but immigrated from India and started a daycare in her home when her daughter had a child. Her granddaughter had since grown but she kept up her business.

At the time of our visit she had five other toddlers enrolled. D was the only infant. Her helper watched the older kids and she snuggled D all day long. He was very spoiled.

She’d make herself and her helper curry-flavored foods for lunch every day. Everything of D’s would come home smelling of it: his clothes, car seat, blankets. I wasn’t exactly pleased at first. At the time I wasn’t a huge fan of the spice. But as the weeks passed, it became more than the smell of her lunch on his things. It became the smell of D.

It was the smell I snuggled against as I nursed him, quietly reconnecting after a day apart.

I’ve heard that the part of the brain that processes scent is right next to the part that processes memory. For this, I’m grateful. To this day, the smell of curry reminds me of my sweet little baby D. Once the smell of curry passes my nose, I never want it to leave.

It instantly, emotionally takes me back to D’s infancy and for just a second, I forget about the big boy he’s become. I remember the uncertainty, fear, joy, elation that comes along with being a new mother. I remember the moment I looked into his eyes and committed myself to him. I remember how much he needed me and I him. But just for a second.

Immediately I’m snapped back to the equally as awesome reality of watching him grow from a baby to a boy. And I look forward with excitement and trepidation at watching him grow from a boy to a man.

Tomorrow is D’s Half Birthday (the first we’ve been asked to celebrate). We don’t have plans yet, but I was thinking of maybe making curry.