Peanut sits longer, eats more and throws less food on the floor now that we have his new Cooshie booster seat. And, I love a high-chair free kitchen.
The seat stays on the kitchen chair well, but can be removed and used as a seat. So far, it is sturdy and makes it harder for Peanut to stand up in the chair and try and jump off. Peanut’s friend, Sean, test drove the booster seat today and he also gave it rave reviews.
A recent trip to Lyon Park in Arlington prompted me to once again tell Peanut, “you are such a boy”. Growing up, I would have labeled such a statement as sexist. But now, I just let it be what it is. My son is such a boy. And, I love it.
He shunned playing with the other kids in the spray ground for jumping in the disgusting mud puddle right next to it. Covered in mud, he watched the other children neatly play under the fountains. Splash!
At home, Peanut is a genius. He tries to imitate everything we do. He is a problem solver and figures out how to get or do what he wants when he wants. He rarely never gives up.
O.k., it is true that his vocabulary is rather limited. I am “Da” rather than Mama, all animals are “woof-woof’s”, and he still has not cracked the complexities of yes and no. But, we applaud all of his achievements as if he had just won the Noble Prize.
When we were visiting Peanut’s grandparents, he ran around the house chasing the “woof-woof” (cat) for hours chanting, “woof-woof”. One morning, Peanut saw Grandpa play with the cat with a piece of string. Later that day, when Peanut finally caught the “woof-woof”, he knew just what to do. He picked up the string and dangled it in front of the cat to play with him just like Grandpa had done. We could not get over how astute this was for a 16 month old. He saw what Grandpa had done to play with the cat and copied his actions hours later. I would be lying if I did not admit that the word Harvard was thrown around. More than once.
The following week we were at our friend’s house where their 17 month old daughter sounded out most of the letters of the alphabet on command. She could tell me what an A sounds like, what a B sounds like, etc. Suddenly dangling a piece of string in front of a cat while calling him a “woof-woof” didn’t seem all that impressive. The imaginary ivy league applications were put on hold.
All confidence in my son’s intellect was restored later that evening at home when my husband called out that Peanut had managed to put the bedroom television on himself. This is no small feat. The installer did not set up a universal remote for this t.v., and, in order to turn it on it is necessary to push the right buttons in the right order on the right clickers facing the right direction with the stars alligned just so. As I ran in and saw that he had indeed successfully turned on MSNBC, any lingering doubts of Peanut’s intellect were put to rest. My husband and I looked at each other and whispered at the same time, “brilliant.”
Yesterday morning I had to make some telephone calls. Calls that I kept putting off because it is impossible to use the phone in front of Peanut. He is in love with the telephone. To an almost alarming level. Nothing sets him off into a temper tantrum quite like not having access to the telephone or even worse when it is taken away from him. Just try and pry your cell phone from his little paws as he clutches for dear life. The screams and cries are out of this world. Most of the time he is a happy, easy-going boy, but, when he hears that tell-tale ring, you can hear the rapid pitter patter of his little feet as he comes running and screaming, “hi!”, “hi!”, “hi Dadda!”.
But, back to that morning. I could not put off the calls any longer. So, Peanut was happily banished to the playzone downstairs to watch Baby Macdonald while I got to it.
In the winter, the temperature on the first floor of our townhouse ranges from freezing cold to ice age, so, Peanut was decked out his stylish camel colored chords, turtle neck, and jacket. When I came downstairs 15 minutes later, this is what I found:
Apparently, he was not down with the stylish camel colored chords. I am afraid we may have a little nudist in the making. I am grateful that diaper was still intact.
What began as a love affair has come to a bitter end. After 2 frustrating experiences at JW Tumbles in Arlington, we will not go back.
We took Peanut to Pay to Play Wednesday evening at the JW Tumbles in Arlington. He enjoys getting one last play in before bedtime. And, we were happy to join him.
After last night, playtime is over.
Last Wednesday, the other kids played while their parents chatted with one another. One family chose to bring dinner for their kids to eat in the common area in between their play time. But, since the parents were busy chatting with one another, one of the children brought his chicken tender onto the slide with him. Luckily, we noticed this and grabbed Peanut.
I complained to the one young employee who was busy talking on the phone almost the entire time we were there. A few minutes later, she told the parents there was no food allowed in the play area.
Last night we returned to for another round of pay to play. The same young employee was on the telephone again. This time a few parents decided to bring a large buffet of food for their children. The parents did not seem to understand that this is a children’s gym, and not a children’s restaurant. Open boxes of snacks were lined up in the common area.
Once again, Peanut was having fun playing when we noticed a child eating his dinner in the play area.
What is wrong with these people? Can’t their children eat dinner at home before or after they play? Could it be that even in this day and age, some parents are clueless about food allergies? Just a little common sense and consideration could prevent a horrible accident.
When I complained to the employee, she graciously put her caller on hold. She told me that maybe the parents did not know about the no food policy, to which I wonder, “well, isn’t your job to tell them? They are right in front of you.” I did not see a prominent sign declaring the play area a no food zone. I did not see wipes offered for children to clean their hands after they ate. I would not have joined JW Tumbles had I not been reassured that there would be no food in the play area.
Children’s health and lives are at stake. JW should be more attentive to its own policies. Hang a sign, offer ways for children to clean their hands and hire staff that pays attention to children around them.
We will not go back. Peanut will have to play at home for a while.
I can be a bit of a germ-phobe. Rumor has it that the last time my husband was sick, I sprayed him with antibacterial sanitizer. And, there are times when I want to give Peanut a good antibacterial hosing down such as after a trip to the park or a gym class. But, I don’t want to expose him to alcohol just yet.
Peanut has discovered that the door knobs have been turned around so that they lock from the outside. Babyproof.
I am not an optimistic person by nature. The glass is never half-full. There is no silver lining. I generally don’t like to rely on hope. It often just leads to disappointment. And, I don’t like to be disappointed.
So, I surprised everyone by feeling optimistic about the fate Peanut’s peanut allergy. I believed that we would learn that the allergy was not that severe and that it was likely to go away with time. In short, I had hope for good news.
We met with the pediatric allergist yesterday (Dr. Sally Bailey with Northern Virginia Hospital was wonderful) who performed a skin allergy test on Peanut. We got great news! Peanut showed no allergy to peanuts. The Doctor said that we should act as though he does have a peanut allergy because the blood test was positive, but that it is a mild allergy that is likely to pass with time. She said that if he had to have a peanut allergy, this was the type of allergy to have. He did show an allergy to eggs, but that is common in babies and more likely to go away as he gets older than a peanut allergy.
As we left the doctor’s office, the relief and excitement evident on our face, I said to my husband, “see you I told you it would work out.” He was incredulous, but had to agree. I had.
I say that I learn from my son everyday. He is such a happy little boy who wakes up everyday with a smile. Maybe one day I will too. Atleast, I hope to.
When I am awake in the middle of the night, the only hope of going back to sleep lies in a bowl of cereal. About an hour after my 3 am bowl of organic amaranth flakes, I am out like a light. As I refilled my bowl early this morning, I had two pressing questions on my mind. Do people who actually have cereal for breakfast want to go back to sleep an hour later? And, more importantly, does anyone have just one bowl of cereal? When the bowl gets down to its last few flakes, I inevitably fill it up one more time. Even if I successfully fell asleep after one measly “serving size”, I am sure I would just dream about that second bowl.
