An Infant's Guide: How to Climb a Chair

The Lurking Question

My son has picked up the phrase, “Hey, buddy, what’s up?” I don’t know where. The way he says it the words sound a little bit more like, “Heeeyyy, buuuuddeee, what’s up?” And his voice undulates up and down, especially around the “u” sounds.

He’s nosy and likes to stare out the window when the neighbor is outside talking, or when he hears the neighbor’s door open or close. Since the windows are still mostly closed the neighbor unwittingly ignores his repeated question.

The boy stands there and says, “Hey, buddy, what’s up” into the window-glass at the guy walking his daughter home from school.

The big chocolaty pit bull that lives up the street gets this same salutation.

We went to the mall and the mannequin in the women’s department wearing khaki shorts, a black top and a pair of sunglasses was also hailed and it was inquired of her what was up.

Infants, toddlers, and older kids alike merit the same greeting.

No one is exempt.

Only, the poor kid has yet to get an answer to his query. So the next time a peculiar little boy with a winning grin and smiling eyes looks up at you and asks, “Hey, buddy, what’s up?” be kind to the poor soul and answer him!

An Infant's Guide: How to Mount a Walker

Potty Party

Near the end of last week, I decided that since the baby is usually in the bathroom while her big brother uses the potty it would be an ideal time to stick her on the toilet and see what she would do. The two or three times she sat on the pot last week were mostly spent trying to stick her feet and hands through the potty seat and down into the toilet water. According to her, this is great fun and all attempts should be made to maneuver one’s way around mommy’s arms and thwart mommy’s efforts at keeping potty time clean and safe.

The long weekend was extremely busy, as weekends are wont to be, so she was deprived the practice of using the toilet. As a result, I wasn’t expecting anything yesterday morning when I removed her diaper and sat her tiny-ness on the potty; I was greatly and pleasantly surprised however, when I heard the tinkling sound of a potty-in-use. I couldn’t believe my luck! I judiciously checked my enthusiasm with a cautionary thought: “Maybe it’s just a fluke.”

Every time over the next couple of hours that big brother used the potty, little sister had a turn. Much to my delight she went every time! “Well,” I thought, “wouldn’t it be something if she’s potty trained before she can walk?” I wanted to make sure that she really did know what the potty was for, so I devised a little experiment.

When I was pretty sure she didn’t have to go, I took her diaper off and stuck her on the toilet anyway. She sat there for a second and then she started to suck her tummy in as if she was trying to force herself to go pee. Over the course of the day, I tried this a couple of times and the result was always the same. Considering the fact that she is still using the potty today, I’m pretty sure she knows what the deal is.

Now all we have to do is come up with some sort of hand signals or learn sign language so that she can communicate when she has to go. And she needs to learn that splashing in the water is for bath time, not for toilet time. It must be loads of fun though, or she wouldn’t cry every time I remove her from the potty and put her pants back on.

Duct Tape: It Holds the House Together

I feel that all of the years I spent watching MacGyver should have better prepared me for fixing things like a busted vacuum. When my son was little he would follow me around while I vacuumed and open and close the door to the back compartment. That only held up for so long. I don't even remember why at this point, but somewhere along the line we thought that the hose needed a little duct tape remedy. When we moved last year the carpet head was dropped and cracked badly. For the last fifteen months the first application of duct tape seemed to be doing the job, but unbeknownst to us the crack was silently getting larger and larger until last week, when it finally worked its way around the entire tube. The taping repair job I did at that point just didn’t hold up, so I pushed back my sleeves, grabbed the tape and a pair of scissors and went at it today with surgical precision. I hope it works this time: that tape is holding together more than just the vacuum.

Who Needs A Tissue?

How is a person supposed to teach a toddler not to wipe his runny nose on the sleeve of his shirt, the couch, carpet, his sister, etc? My poor son is suffering from über-runny-nose-syndrome and I can’t seem to keep up with the output, so he is helping himself to the furniture in lieu of a tissue. At least the fabric of our couch is micro fiber so I can scrub the lethal boogies out of it.

I believe this may be the first cold he has had where the amount of congestion is so excessive that it actually causes him to drool. As charming as that sounds, it’s really kind of gross. While the snot drips from every orifice in his face he grabs his sister’s face with both of his hands and plants a big (really) wet kiss on her head. No. I don’t think she’ll get sick. Really! I’m sure the fact that she keeps sipping out of the cups he leaves lying around the house won’t increase the chance of any illness on her part.

Speaking of illness, I thought I would lose my lunch after seeing the amalgamation of sweet things my husband put together for a snack. He was so proud of it that he took a picture and wrote down instructions for proper layering. Just looking at it made me want to eat a large salad. Or drink a big cup of water.

Have Car- Will Spend Money

If I didn’t like getting to my destination quickly, I would consider buying a buggy; if I wouldn’t mind my “car” defecating in the street behind me, I would get a horse. Perhaps, if I had a barn to keep my “motor” warm and a trough in which to put its feed I would purchase a horse and buggy.

While in the midst of making a Huge Mistake (picking up diapers at Wal-Mart-in-the-evening with a congested toddler) my husband calls me to request that I come to his aid and pick him up at a grocery store where he stopped to get some ice cream because I had not brought any home from my trip earlier in the week. His key would not turn in the ignition, so he and his melty ice cream were stuck. Little did he know that I already had melting ice cream in my shopping cart.

I despise this particular Wal-Mart because it is always busy. Unless a person chooses to go in the middle of the night they will be waiting in line for twenty minutes or more while the baby decides to be hungry and the toddler thinks it a good time to get bored. However, I foolishly choose this specific store because they usually stock the training diapers I buy in larger boxes. Of course they didn’t have any this time.

While my husband sat in his car and waited for my arrival, I stood in a long line and rocked an increasingly irritated baby. My mother had come for a visit and I ungraciously dragged her along. (It’s always a good thing to have a Nana when there is more than one child and they are both unhappy at the length of the outing.)

We finally made it through the checkout line and I only had to sign away half of my life in order to pay the bill. There were some vain and foolish hopes on the part of both my husband and I that even though his key would not turn the cylinder mine would, as it is in slightly better shape than his old decrepit and pitted one. Not so much. This became painfully obvious after repeated attempts to make it work.

In case anyone is wondering, this is not a cheap fix (if there is such a thing). My Dad’s mantra when it comes to cars is: “Have car- will spend money”. I heard that a lot while growing up. I really think it has helped me cope with costly car repairs. Don’t ask me why. I guess I’ve just grown to accept it. I don’t like it though. Add on the price of gasoline these days to the price of upkeep and insurance, and I’m pretty much thinking of buying a horse. Or maybe just a big bird that can sit the entire family on its back and fly us anywhere we wanted to go.