Post-Christmas…Post…

I’d like to be able to excuse my lack of creative posting on my blog by saying that I’ve simply been far too busy to write. That would be ideal, as it would make me sound as though I’ve been doing important things over the last week or so. However, it would be a lie. I haven’t been too busy. Well, minus the two days that I really was too busy, I haven’t.

We had my mother-in-law at our house for a week, and before you go feeling sympathetic about that, don’t. My MIL is awesome. AND! Baby absolutely adores her, and vice versa. AND! She cooks for us and washes dishes when I’m not threatening to ground her for cleaning in my house when she’s on vacation.

Anyway, this was our first Christmas with Baby- who, at this point, I’d like to stop calling ‘Baby’ and start calling by his name in my posts, but alas, I feel rather uncomfortable doing so.

I understand that a first Christmas with the newest member of a family is an important event. One to be commemorated. Hence, several people wanted us to have a ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ tree ornament, and several other people wanted pictures of said event.

Ornaments, ok. Pictures? I didn’t take ANY. Why? I had my camera tucked inside my purse at every place we visited, and I took zero pictures. I feel much like a bad mother, but…

Baby was extremely overwhelmed. Not just because he was so tired, thanks to his inability to sleep in strange places, but also because there were tons of people all over the place, people eating and talking and laughing and wanting to look at or hold or talk to or play with Baby. On top of that, the opening of gifts apparently caused Baby’s eyes to glaze over and his coping mechanism- i.e, going super quiet and staring fixedly at nothing in particular- to kick into over-drive. Poor little guy. So much paper rustling, so many bows being stuck on him by Mommy (what? It was adorable), so many ribbons to grab hold of!

Would it have been right to also throw into the mix the constant flash and beep of a camera going off in his face? I don’t think so.

Ok, so, I totally spaced on the picture front. I forgot I had my camera. I was too busy with Christmas and freaked-out Baby. Sue me.

For the record, Baby toys get cooler and cooler all the time, and I’m jealous. Not that I didn’t appreciate the toys I had when I was little- I mean, Barbie and Cabbage Patch dolls are classics (possibly I appreciate them more now that I’m too old for them)- but Leap Frog has a stuffed dog toy (a green one called Scout for boys, a purple one called Violet for girls) that you can hook up to a computer and enter your child’s name and favorite food, color, and animal. Scout (or Violet) will then talk to, sing to, and ‘interact’ with your child on a personal level, putting their name and favorites into little games and songs. Scout (or Violet) will also play lullabies and teach animal sounds and ask for hugs or snacks.

Holy crap! It’s so neat. I know of a few other kids who have one, and their parents say their kids LOVE their Scout/Violet. I think Baby will too, once he figures out how to squeeze a paw to make Scout talk and sing.

I didn’t really mean this to be a toy review, it’s just that like I said, SUPER COOL stuff for kids. Aside from Scout (who I threatened to steal and carry around and program to say MY name), there’s a mail box that comes with a package and plastic letters that teaches the ABC’s. There’s a ball popper thingy that shoots colored plastic balls into the air and forces parents to chase after them (when Clint put it together and turned it on, it terrified him…yes, Clint, not Baby). There’s a rocking horse that neighs. There’s bath toys that squeak, spin, and squirt water from their mouths.

There’s no place to put all of this stuff, and so my living room is currently under a thick layer of baby toys.

To add to the confusion of my household, Clint and I also were bombarded with cool gifts- tools and small kitchen appliances and Get Fuzzy books (I’ve already read one, and I’m half way through with another) and movies and you know, stuff.

Considering that we were only able to afford to buy gifts for a small handful of people, I feel really guilty that we ended up receiving so much.

But then, on the other hand, I’m learning to just thank God for our blessings and not argue when we get things we don’t really deserve. Like a family that is so glad to have us around for the holidays, a huge family who adores our son, or thoughtful gifts from people we least expected them from.

How Mr. Head Became Part of the Family

A couple months ago, the daughter of a friend of the family gave us a trash bag full of toys that her own son has gotten too old for. Among them there was one of those ring things…you know, the little post that you fit the colored rings on. It was funny, because just the day before, I’d been considering buying one for Baby, but I hadn’t done it because I wasn’t sure he was really ready for that yet.

It turned out that I was really glad I hadn’t purchased the one I saw at Walmart, because that one was pretty basic and plain and boring, while the one we received is brighter, makes music when the rings pass over a button, lights up, and has a funny little green bug-type head that goes on top and must be removed in order to also remove the rings.

There’s been a few times when I’ve tried to get Baby interested in this toy; I set him on the floor, sat down beside him, and helped him grab the rings after having removed the little green bug-type head and setting it aside.

At first, Baby was mildly amused with the rings themselves, taking one into both of his chubby little hands and slobbering all over it for a few minutes. After ‘marking’ them all as his own, however, he lost interest and reached for the pole part that was flashing and emitting tinkly-sounding baby songs.

His interest in that also lasted a very short time, and for a couple of weeks I couldn’t get him to even reach out for a ring when I tried to hand it to him. Baby would just look at me, an expression on his face that clearly said, “Yeah right, Mom.”

Cheeky little baby.

About a week ago, I was trying to clean up the living room and picking up toys that probably didn’t need to be lying around while Baby was eating. I tripped over the stupid, noisy, seizure-inducing ring toy, and the little green bug-type head got knocked off and kicked across the room. With a sigh, I chased after it and when I picked it up, it’s big white cartoony bug eyes were staring at me.

It was pretty cute, in a slightly disembodied, decapitated sort of way.

I took it over to where Baby was by then no longer eating but turning his bottle upside-down and dripping formula onto the floor. I traded him the little green bug-type head for the unwanted meal, and to my surprise, he not only took it from me, he also was so overly excited about it that his tiny arms were shaking and his feet were kicking sporadically.

Huh.

I went about my business then, drifting around the house, pretending to clean when I was really just moving piles of junk from one place to another, and for half an hour, Baby examined and conversed with the little green bug-type head.

Since then, he does this at least a couple of times a day. When no other toy is entertaining enough, my husband or I will hand the bug-type head to Baby and ta-da! Instant happiness.

Just a couple days ago, Clint was keeping an eye on Baby while I did more pretend-cleaning. From another room, I heard Baby get slightly fussy, followed by Clint’s attempts to stop the fussing before it became screaming.

“Do you want Mr. Head?” I heard him ask our child. Apparently the answer was yes (not that Baby says ‘yes’ yet, of course).

From the bedroom where I was, I started laughing. Mr. Head? That could only be the little green bug-type head, obviously. I instantly liked the name. Fitting, descriptive, without being too presumptuous. And cute, too, that my husband was now naming Baby’s toys.

As I write this, Baby is sleeping soundly in his crib after a long morning of kicking a toy truck across the floor, bouncing in a bouncy-car-chair thing, squishing a stuffed animal and growling at it, and having a serious, meaningful conversation with the newest member of the family…Mr. Head.