What My Son is Doing

Little Seth is almost 15 months old. Really growing up. He can walk. He points at the refrigerator when he’s thirsty. He can’t open the refrigerator just yet, but he is tall enough and smart enough to reach up and open certain door knobs. Sticks his hands in the toilet. He can’t lift the lid off the toilet yet, but we will be getting those baby proof locks for the cabinets pretty soon.

He has also taught me the value of toys. I used to argue that real young kids don’t need toys because you could hand them anything–a set of keys, a chopstick and a skillet, a shoe–and they’re perfectly content.

That’s true, but I learned my lesson one day when he walked over to a shelf in his reach and began to pull everything on it to the ground piece by piece, making a bit of a mess. Solution? I put all that stuff back on the shelf, and dumped a 60 piece blocks set out in front of him. He forgot all about destroying the house, and just played with the blocks.

Toys are a distraction. Sometimes, it’s good to be distracted. Only sometimes, though.


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