Sunday, May 24, 2009

The Arm Bone's Connected to the Wrist Bone

We're in Kansas City for the weekend to see my sister graduate from High School. Ah, sweet alma mater. I may actually enjoy this :)

In the meantime, a brief anecdote to tide you over.

Baby Boy has gotten very good at sitting up with a little bit of support. So much so, that he will contentedly sit in his high chair, with a little bit of prop support, while we eat dinner. This has given me a new lease on life as I can now eat with two hands as opposed to trying to negotiate everything with one hand (every tried to pick up the last few peas from your plate with a spoon and no leverage? Think of it as a Zen activity). This was also made necessary as he had taken to grabbing for my plate, my spoon, my place setting, and my food while sitting on my lap. Not to mention the times that he jerks and whacks his head on the table (he cries, Momma cries, it's just not pretty; ask Roslyn).
Since he also can pretty easily direct things to his mouth to chew on while he is sitting, he plays with toys while he's sitting, too.
So, now at dinner, I have a cadre of baby toys lined up by my place setting. I give him one, he macks on it until its gooey, tosses it over the side, and I hand him another one. Think of it as a visual clock, like an egg timer, that lets me know how much longer I have to eat my dinner.
I never pick the fallen ones up off of the floor. Why, do you ask? Because there is something about sticky baby goo that makes little toys matted and generally disgusting. I mean, I love my children, but I have my boundaries.

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