Posts Tagged ‘ baby games ’

Distraction is the Cure for Clinginess

Thursday, October 13th, 2011

Ten months.

In my son’s eyes, I am the coolest person in the room; except for when my wife is there too. All she has to do is pick him up and he’ll be happy. If I pick him up, he cries for her.

It’s totally a double standard. My son is putting me in a difficult and unfair situation. Doesn’t he realize he isn’t being logical?

After many frustrating weeks of me trying to appease my son while my wife would be trying to cook dinner, I finally got it: Get out!

Get out of the room with him and distract him his toy bucket upstairs. Or take a walk outside and watch him get fascinated by every car that whooshes by.

I wanted to believe that I could make him just as happy as my wife could just by my presence. What was I thinking? I don’t have that ability- I have too much testosterone seeping out of my pores to subconsciously comfort my son the way my wife can.

Instead, I simply must engage him with some good ole distraction techniques. One of my favorite methods is to sit him down on the carpet and play with one of his favorite toys in front of him. He can’t make it longer than two seconds before he just has to play with that exact toy at that exact moment.

Another thing I do is to crawl away from him and hide behind the other side of the couch. Then I pop out every couple of seconds. He thinks it’s funny every time I surprise him. Next, I start crawling directly towards him and he does the same, like a jousting match without the horses or swords.

When we meet, I put my arms around him and squeeze him, while growling into his stomach and chest. It’s hilarious how he knows I’m going to “win” every time, but he always charges me with the same smile on his face.

It’s then that dinner is ready and the courageous crusaders must wash up for supper.

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Like Teaching a 10 Month Old New Tricks

Friday, September 16th, 2011

Ten months.

My wife and I accidently taught our son Jack to do something weird this week. We taught him to “be a chicken.” Sort of.

For most of his life, my wife Jill has done this bit routine with Jack where she rushes up to him, acting like a mutant chicken. His typical response has always been to start hysterically laughing when she does.

But this past Wednesday night when Jill pretended to be a chicken, Jack decided he wanted to try to be a chicken too. He started opening his mouth really wide, hoping the “bahk, bahk-bahk-bahk” sound would come out. But it didn’t. So he just simply kept opening his mouth and closing it in the hopes that a chicken sound would magically be there.

To make this situation more hilarious, Jack has also been doing this new move where he smiles real big and shakes his head “no” as if to say, “I can’t believe these crazy people in front of me…”. It somehow remains me of Morgan Freeman playing the character of God in the movie Bruce Almighty.

Well, for the past couple of days now he has been combining his “no” move with his attempt at being a chicken. We should be teaching him things like how to pick up Cheerios with his index finger and thumb. Instead, our son can act like a silent chicken who is disapproving, yet very happy about it.

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