Toddlers and Fathers: Heartwarming Love That Warms the Hands, Too.

The child! The child! Yes, for all you artsy types, this is indeed a reference to Kurtz's exclamation in Conrad's Heart of Darkness, "The horror! The horror!" It began around the time that creature that y'all know as The Toddler discovered the joy of the outdoors. First he learned to go down the porch stairs backward on his belly, then he learned to go up them--not that he used the second talent much. He was all about staying out there on the front lawn, going up and down the path exclaiming like a mad thing and hollering as a beast wounded whenever we tried to pick him up and bring him inside. And heaven forbid we take away his stick while doing it.

It was a warm evening. The air was crisp and fresh, the Pacific Northwestern sky clear for a change. The Toddler was running to and fro down the path, waving his stick and hollering triumphantly whenever he stooped to pick up something interesting.  Every so often he'd run over to me where I was sitting on the porch step and drop whatever it was he'd found into my hand.

The Curious Toddler: Teething With Emotion

Because of myriad circumstances, which I'll simply summarize as your-everyday-work-allergies-computer woes-parental exhaustion-procrastinatory issues, it's been a while since I've given an update on Junior. Not that he hasn't been update-worthy. He has. Junior was a preemie--he came weeks early and pounds smaller than his peers. He's pulled through some amazing struggles in his first year and beyond. Small but hearty, he doesn't seem impressed by the oohing and aahing of his parents over his developmental triumphs.

"Oh, darling, he just showed stubbornness! Our baby's learned stubbornness!"

Yojimbo Rewound: Samurai Baby

We were not going to let him watch TV.

We swore this, not just because the books warned us against the dire effects of TV watching on infants, but because we ourselves hardly watch any TV. In fact, what we do watch these days tends to be limited to old Akira Kurosawa samurai movies and science fiction adventure movies.

We were good, and we were good. Our TV rested dormant as our ancient VCR sat gathering dust, used only as the occasional distraction by our toddler who liked to experiment with trying to reach the buttons.

And then, one day we broke down. We popped in a casette of Yojimbo, the classic Akira Kurosawa film that A Fist Full of Dollars was based on. (Clint Eastwood? Spaghetti western? Ring a bell, yes?)

Our Doom is Upon Us: The Baby Took His First Steps

Only that. The baby took his first steps. We're doomed. There's really nothing else to tell.

Except - wait. There is something.

Da-da-da-DAMN. And Mama.

I was hoping to have an update for you on Junior's toddler adventures. So far, the biggest thing that's come out of his new venture in cling-walking is our bemusement over how many things are actually at a level of about twenty-four inches off the ground.

Drawers, laser printers, tabletops and their contents--or, let's be accurate--former contents, having been swept onto the carpet by an experimental hand. But that's all good. Those tabletops needed a good clearing, so I'm taking it as a positive sign of his wanting to help with housework.

Twilight Monday: Dow May be Down But Baby and Writing Are Up

A content editor at eHow sent me an email today. One of my articles got noticed by The Vancouver Sun. This, in turn, sparked eHow to spot a hot topic and write up a Quick Guide with two of my articles mentioned.

And this is a Monday. Good things never happen on Mondays. Look at the Dow Jones Industrial Average of late. Mondays suck.

So, riding the wave, I brushed up a screwball comedy story for which I sold first worldwide electronic rights years ago, and sent it out. And while I was doing this, my husband pointed to Junior.

He was standing! On his own! For three seconds! Before he fell! Down! On his tush!

And he was so pleased with himself, he's been playing Look-Ma-No-Hands all day. Meanwhile, his father's been walking around muttering, "He's going to be walking soon. Oh, God."

For my part, I refuse to focus on the doom everyone says will come upon us when he's vertically mobile. After all, he already goes wherever he wants on his hands and knees. What possible difference can two feet make...?

Copyright Nerd Writer Mom 2008-2010 - All Rights Reserved

Chicco Talking Farm Vs. the Baby: The Day the Toy Crumbled

This is less a review of the Chicco Bilingual Talking Animal Farm toy than it is a true story of one boy's relationship with his "white sheep" toy, as we call it.



"Let's play together with the animals and numbers. Press a button."

I'm working at my desk. Junior's practicing standing against the bars of his gated play area. And the Chicco animal farm toy is trying to get Junior to play with him.

"Let's play together with the animals and numbers. Press a button!"

Although it is officially known in stores as the Chicco Bilingual Talking Farm, the thing in question is known in our household as simply, "The White Sheep Toy," for reasons you'll see in a minute. A barn inhabited by farm animals, a couple of bears and a cheerful neo-Mr. Rogers voice, the toy boasts a sophisticated functionality that fails to impress our baby.