Now that Jonah is
mobile, I have taken steps to ensure that he doesn’t move in areas he shouldn’t
move. Sometimes I wish we could live where he could have a larger area to roam
around in, exploring. He doesn’t have a
bunch of room, but what he has, he claims.
Since our apartment
is about the size of the average living room, it’s pretty easy to limit Jonah’s
movement.
Here’s what we do:
I shut the doors to
the bathroom, our bedroom, Jonah’s bedroom, and the laundry room.
Then I move the
coffee table, blocking access to the kitchen.
I scatter his toys in the open area, and I watch him go from toy to toy,
circling the living room.
Thus, Jonah has an
area that he can roam around in, often circling the living room like a Shetland
Pony in a corral. I’ve been wanting to
bridle train him, but he doesn’t have the ears to keep it on his head.
Anyway, Jonah’s
movement is all about discovery. He’s
like the Magellan of our living room, often attempting to circle the coffee
table to launch himself into our kitchen.
While discovery can lead to higher quality of life, Jonah’s effort at
discovery often results in bumps and bruises.
For instance, the
first few days of Jonah’s crawling efforts lead to an odd striping on his
forehead. As he discovered that he could
move, he hadn’t figured that the furniture would remain stationary. Thus, he ran into the rocking chair, the
coffee table, the door (to the bathroom, our bedroom and the laundry room) and
every corner we have in our house. Unlike
those mechanized toys that simply pull a 180 every time they hit a wall, Jonah
would run into something, back up, run into it again, sit down and cry.
We ran a full-time
comforting service during these times while we developed plausible reasons for
the zebra-striped bruises on Jonah’s forehead.
Part of our effort at comfort involved the distraction. This technique is often overlooked in the
face of a screaming baby or a panicked parent, but it works. If we are forced to take away the small chainsaw
he happened to find behind the couch, we can easily distract him with a less
dangerous form of entertainment like, say, an attack duck. Since I have been around both a chain saw and
an attack duck, well it’s a toss-up.
Chain saws can cut through wood rather quickly, and ducks bite like the
Dickens. Anything done like the Dickens
often trumps other things that can cut wood quickly, but we figure both a chain
saw and an attack duck are bad ideas.
Thus, we distract him with simple, non-lethal toys like wooden spoons or
baseball bats.
As he made his way,
bumping around the room, Jonah discovered these sources of excitement.
Item #1: Door stopper spring. We have one of those things that attach to
the wall to keep the door from slamming when it’s opened. Jonah crawls over to the spring jutting out
of the wall. He reaches out his hand,
grabs it, and then lets go. BBBBOOOOIIIINNNGGG!!! Jonah laughs.
BBBOOOOIIINNNGGG!!! Jonah
laughs. BBBBOOOIIINNNGGGG!!! Jonah laughs.
Repeat ten thousand times.
Item #2: Basket
of magazines. We saw a preview of this
one with Savannah. Both she and Jonah
love to tear apart magazines, page by page. Neither Sunday nor I have had a
magazine subscription for over two years, but we have a basket full of
magazines. Jonah views the basket as his
opportunity to create his own little tickertape parade, over by our
television. He takes out one magazine,
disconnects each page from its staple, and tears each page into little bitty
pieces. Unfortunately, he does this so
quickly that it he’s tearing up page 36 before I know that he’s over there. He’s a ninja!
Item #3: Fireplace. We have a fireplace. We do not use it. I have enough memories of sledge hammers and
wood-splitting wedges to avoid ever starting a fire in my own home. I get calluses on my hands just thinking
about building a fire. Bring on the
electric, gas, or oil heat! Nevertheless,
Jonah loves the fireplace so much, that he tries to crawl into it. The first time he tried it, he had his torso
entirely inside the fireplace. By the
time I pulled him out of there, he had so much soot on him that he looked like
a little coal miner.
Items #4/#5: Me and Sunday.
Four days after Jonah started crawling, Sunday and I were sitting on the
couch talking as he made his way around the room. We were so interested in our conversation
that we hadn’t noticed that Jonah had pulled himself to a full standing
position. By the time we stopped
talking, we were staring at him as he gripped the couch cushions. Both of us realized that we were in huge
trouble, because crawling is one thing, but climbing and walking are
advancements that we’re not equipped to handle just yet. And if he keeps up this pace, he’ll be taking
Calculus in preschool.
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