According to Lucy, the light fixture above the table is what is absolutely terrifying. It hangs directly over her designated seat, and it's never posed a problem. Until this week.
Before I go any further, let me confess that, earlier this week, I did bump Lucy's head on the light fixture as I was putting her in her seat for breakfast. But since she didn't cry and barely seemed to even notice the collision, I just kissed her head and we proceeded with our meal. Later that day, everyone got back in the table for lunch and for a snack, and both times Lucy acted normally.
Then came dinner. As soon as I put Lucy in her seat, she FREAKED. OUT. I've never seen anything like it. She was screaming so hard that she was beet red, her teeth were gritted, her fists were clenched, and her eyes were tearing. She would not eat or drink, and nothing I did to try to soothe her had any effect.
Eventually I took her out of the table and back into the living room. She calmed down almost instantly, so after a few minutes, I put her back in the table. Immediately, she reverted to full-on panic mode. I noticed that she kept looking up at the light like she was spooked, so I turned it off, thinking that perhaps the glare or heat were bothering her. No dice.
At this point, I decided that she was just having an irrational tantrum, so I took her out of the table for good, and little Lucy did not eat dinner that night.
The next morning, I put Lucy in the table for breakfast. Immediate SCREAMING. Again, I noticed that she kept looking up at the light. In a moment of inspiration, I asked Ted to help me switch her place with Jude, who usually sits the farthest from the light fixture. Right away, Lucy stopped screaming, and we were able to eat our breakfast without further incident. I haven't put her back in her old seat since then, and she's been completely fine—at the table.
I stress "at the table" because, just before naptime today, Lucy began pointing at the living room chandelier. She does this all the time, and I always tell her what it's called—no big deal. This time, however, I thought it would be fun to lift her up so that she could get a closer look at it. BAD MOVE. Lucy instantly dissolved into terrified tears! Nothing consoled her except for taking her out of the living room (which happens to be the only baby-proofed room in the house!).
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| "Here I come, baby—comin' to getcha!" |
It appears that dealing with this new fear of light fixtures won't be as easy as switching places at the table, after all. Anyone have any advice on how to cure this sudden chandelier phobia? I'm stumped!
