Attention, please

This boy has discovered boredom.

More accurately, he’s discovered entertainment, but can’t yet provide it for himself. Gone are the halcyon days where he’d just lie on the bed next to me or on my lap, playing randomly with my fingers or his baby gym. Everything is SO INTERESTING, but nothing is interesting for longer than five minutes. Oh, and he’s constantly ravenous. And has learned to make an ear-splitting squawk to signify displeasure. This is a novel combination.

Our days recently have gone something like:

oh I like that toy/ok not any more/that one, that one!/I love this book/no wait, this book offends me deeply/I’m huuuungry/pick me up, Mother!/no, not like that, like this/no, not like that/oh forget it, just let me stand up and put my fingers in my mouth/I spit on your ‘naptime’/I’m DYING OF STARVATION/ooh, pretty lights/I wish to view everything in the room from a height of approximately five feet/higher than that, please. Etc. Etc.

I love watching him develop into more of a person, even if he can only do personly things for five minutes at a time. And I’ve been introducing toys to him with great excitement. But after some hours, it tends to turn into one of those days where we need to get out of the house. Yesterday – well, imagine. We went for a jog.

I venture to remind you at this point that I have fanciful dreams of me being a whip-lean, hardened runner triumphantly crossing a marathon finish line. Ok, half marathon. Ok, a 10k. These dreams have never made it into reality, because I can’t stand running, and then I had a baby. But I hear stories all the time of people seduced by the Way of the Lycra, and keep hoping it will happen to me.

I would also venture to remind you that I’m not getting any less post-pregnant. I think my body has done all it intends to on that score. Exercise it is, then. Cunningly, I put my jogging clothes on a full hour before I intended to leave the house, just to shame myself into actually doing it. You need these strategies when you’re a hardened run-hater like myself. I have a whole sheaf of them.

We walked to the park, and then I found a reasonably flat path and ran/walked back and forth for a while. I was pretty awful. But oh, I really kind of enjoyed it. And it kept Henry contained – um, sorry, entertained – for a good hour and a half. Win.

This is the part where I confess that ten minutes ago he filled his nappy, and I’m fairly certain the contents therein are trekking valiantly up and down to his extremities. But I haven’t changed him, because he’s asleep. Finally.

I’ll do it in a minute, I promise.

Oh, he’s awake. Red alert. Man the toy stations. We may be some time.


Talk to me! I'll put the kettle on.

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