Wednesday, October 15, 2008


Just yesterday I had the first inkling of what life with an active little boy might be like. I’ve been spoiled during the past few weeks in that I’ve been able to leave River to his own entertainment for little chunks of time. He still has no problem entertaining himself, only now his entertainment has suddenly picked up mischief. I think this correlates with his vast increase in mobility and physical confidence over the past few days.

Last night he pulled over the overflowing garbage can, dumping the contents onto himself and the floor. He didn’t seem to mind and went right for the empty pudding containers, probably hoping he could get a lick. I saw him grab the garbage can, saw him pull it toward him, but despite being only about two feet away, wasn’t able to get there before it fell.

Before the garbage incident, he got into a bag of onions and amused himself by pushing one across the floor, stopping every so often to try to eat it. After the garbage, he scooted over to the supply closet, opened it, and looked for something to pull out of there.

This morning, he stood up along the coffee table, turned my mug of tea upside down (it was no longer hot), then ran his hand back and forth through the liquid piling up at the table’s edge. This is going to be an interesting few upcoming months (or years?) to say the least.

At the same time I see he will soon have the ability to run our small house amok, I’m also at a very rewarding point of feeling I know him well. Last night I took the bottle Mark was feeding him away so that I could breastfeed him. River wasn’t very interested in breastfeeding, so I let him play. At eight on the dot, his usual bedtime, he began to fuss, indicating it was time for bed. I tried to feed him again, but he wasn’t interested. Normally, he’s milked to sleep. Since he was refusing the milk, I decided to put him in his crib without a bottle.

He cried and I came downstairs conscious that the crying wasn’t bothering me as it often does. I knew it was a fussy rather than a pained cry. I thought it wouldn’t last long. If it did last more than 10-15 minutes, I would have gone in and breastfed him in his room, when maybe he’d be ready to pay more attention. In just over five minutes it was quiet and he was asleep for the night. No feeding needed. Success. I knew what to do.

I am now the world’s foremost expert on River. Sometimes I feel sorry for him that almost every movement of his life is watched. But we try to watch with love and from our observations, learn what he needs.

1 comment:

Momo Fali said...

This is why people shouldn't buy expensive furniture until their kids are teenagers.