Monday, November 17, 2008

Spoiled Rotten

As far as I can tell, Max is a "baby" which as about as close to a specific age as I think most fathers can ever determine-Baby, Boy, Teen, and get Outta the House are the specific age categories. In the Baby phase, Max can do whatever he wants. At this stage of development, our role is to react whenever he cries because his cries are based on survival-if he cries it's because he's hungry, sleepy, sick, too hot/cold. Lately we've been detecting that Max may have reached the age of "Boy" because now he throws temper tantrums if we don't hand him the cordless phone/book/cat/toy in a manner that is quick enough to suit him; so now we have to learn to say "No". Having a spoiled child is one of our greatest fears, and it's a real test of will power not to succumb to those big tears, wailing cries, and down turned mouth.

A case in point: this weekend we took a trip to the Zoo. As soon as we pulled in to the parking lot we knew that the day was going to be magic-consider the first exhibition we saw: there's not even bars on his cage! It was a Porkus Driverus-a common prowler of the Peruvian highways.

Once inside the gates, Max was thrilled by the other animals-how much like his cat Flavius they all seemed! Maybe if I climb over this wall, I can play with them and we'll have such fun. Why is Daddy holding me back? LET ME GO!!! LET ME GOOOO!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!! And so it continued. First the sea lions, then the otters, then the one point, I seriously considered letting him play with the pumas. But we all made it home safely and Max had a big nap.

Today, we were rewarded for our patience because he finally began to walk. Not just baby steps. Full fledged walking across a room with pauses where he picked up some lint and ate it then kept walking.

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