Skip to main content

drop the baby


as all parents do, we have a set of invented games that we play with john. some are ones that our parents played with us as kids - "up in the sky" means propping him up on our feet while we're lying on our backs so he's soaring in the air; "wake up and play" means pretending to go to sleep and then getting up and being silly while saying (surprise) "wake up and play!" 

some are our own (or john's) inventions: we still play "funny hat" with anything under the sun; "kleenex head" was a favorite when he was younger, and he invented that with his grammie.

but here is my secret confession: there is one game that we play frequently that has me desperately worried. not for john, but for fear that he'll talk about this game in public and be misunderstood.

this game, you see, is called "drop the baby." more recently, as john has become a big boy, he calls it simply "drop john."

you understand my fear?

of course, the game itself is innocent enough: i carry john through the house saying, "uh oh ... uh oh ... uh oh!" and when we reach my bed, i "drop" him on the bed, usually shouting "oh no, i dropped the baby!" and john giggles with glee at the feeling of being dropped, and landing safe and sound on the mattress.

it wouldn't sound so innocent though, would it, if you were a childcare provider and heard this adorable little towheaded blue eyed boy say, "mommy drop the baby! mommy drop john!"

i can almost see child protective services at my doorstep now.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

on lullabies

i am not a singer. if you've sat behind me in church, you know this to be true. (and i'm sorry.) a musician, yes. a singer no. and yet i find myself singing to john almost nonstop. and the beauty is, he seems to actually like it! (there's no accounting for taste. he also thinks i'm the most beautiful woman in the world. i'm no ogre, but i'm certainly not winning any beauty contests outside of my son's brain!) and actually, i've written some lullabies for john that are pretty nice. and it made me think: did your parents sing to you? do you remember what they sang, and better yet, if you have kids, do you sing the same songs to them? reply in the comments!

pull up your big boy undies

"what time is it? mommy? what oclock?" john's teacher told me something amazing today. "you should bring me some big boy undies," she said, "i haven't changed john in weeks." it seems that at school, since they check in with him periodically to see if he has to potty, and since his very smart teacher has noticed his (very regular) bowel movement schedule, john is potty trained. at 9am at 2pm, she plops him on the toilet. he might sit for 20 minutes, reading a book. when she checks on him, he says, "i just poo-pooin', miss meka." and when he's done, he's good and done. we're not quite that far along at home, but tonight we go shopping for big boy undies. and i'm sure we'll have a few accidents, but that's just a part of the process ... and soon my little boo will be in big boy undies full time. and ... it's a great time for him to be out of diapers. because good lord willing and the creek ...

i'm furberizing my baby

ok, let's get this straight right off the bat: i don't know if i am literally following dr. furber's methods of sleep training. there are so many versions out there. but saying we're furberizing john is WAY more fun than saying that i'm letting him cry his little lungs out in an attempt to teach him to sleep on his own. it's night two of our efforts. he went right to sleep last night, which was great. and he slept for 5.25 hours (!!!!) before waking up at 2:30 a.m. when he woke up crying, i let him cry for 5 minutes before going in to soothe him. (the soothing barely works at all, by the way, but it's what i'm supposed to do ...) then i let him cry for 10 more minutes before going in to soothe him again. next on the agenda was a 15 minute stretch of crying - but he fell asleep after 8 minutes. so a sum total of 22 minutes of crying. not too bad for night two. i've heard night three can be the worst ... so we'll hold on to our hats tonight. mean...