Friday, August 6, 2010

Vaughn Proof

I want to start this off by saying I love my son immensely and in no way should this blog be construed as me complaining.  However...

It is getting increasingly difficult to take Vaughn to other people's houses.  He is in to absolutely everything, loves to push buttons, shake lamps, stand on their couches and in general, make it so I can't relax even the slightest bit.

I didn't want to "baby proof" too much because a child is supposed to come into our lives, we are not supposed to go into theirs.  Flash forward a few months and there is absolutely nothing within his reach in our living room (where he is mostly contained).  There is a baby gate at the bottom of the stairs and a baby gate at the entrance to the kitchen.

I have tried the "let him look at it and eventually he'll ignore it" method.  Let me tell you something - the more you show my son, the more he is interested in it.  The more he knows you don't want him to have something, the more he wants to have it.  

We gave him his own remote control, but he knows it doesn't do anything.  We gave him own little "phone" but again, he's on to us.    For the most part, he's pretty good when we tell him to get away from something but the distraction we offer him is only good for a nanosecond and he's back to his impish ways.

Vaughn loves to get things off of shelves.  We have to be vigilent about what we leave on the table beside Tim's desk, on Tim's desk and on the kitchen table.  I can't believe how far his little go-go-gadget fingers can reach.  Don't even get me started about going to someone else's house.  It's embarrassing.

Yesterday, we went over to my friend Julie's place for what was supposed to be a play date.  Her daughter Joelle was happy to sit and play quietly.  Not my child.  He was all over the place, grabbing at everything and couldn't sit still for a minute.  He wants to see and experience the world all at once -  I just wish he didn't have to do it all in 45 minutes.

Now here's the thing - I'm not super hard on him for sharing water bottles or sippy cups.  Even though I give him his, he always wants to have the one that belongs to someone else.  I don't know how other parents feel about that, but I'm okay with it, as long as it's water.  I have been on sports teams galore and am used to sharing water bottles so I don't see it as a big deal.  However, other parents seem put off that my baby grabs their sippy cup.  I apologize in advance if that bothers you.

I also feel like sometimes I never feed my child - when someone else has food, he's all over them like a dirty shirt and grabbing at their plate.  Of course, I steer him away and try to distract him with his own cookies and snacks, but as per usual, he wants what the other one has.  I hope this goes away in time because I really am starting to lose my patience with him.

Funnily enough, I have no problem taking Vaughn to restaurants.  For the most part, he's really easy going and quite pleasant.  He has a "shelf-life" of approximately 1 hour after which he is frantically trying to launch himself out of the high chair and on to the floor.  Leisurely meals out are a thing of the past.

For the all the chasing, redirecting, calling, distracting, and my sighs of frustration, I'm still proud of my boy.  You want to know why?  He's got so much energy and a zest for life.  He is living every day to the fullest and wants to experience as much as he can.  He is happy - good gosh is he happy - everyone who meets him just adores him and I'm so glad for that.  He is game for just about anything, adapts easily to new situations and very rarely loses his mind when he doesn't get his way.  He's smart, he's active and he sleeps really hard.  What's not to love right?

And is it really such a big deal that the dog water dish got turned upside again?  Nah.  I have to remember that he is just a baby after all and one day (hopefully soon) it will sink in and I won't have to tell him again.  Until that day, my son is teaching me patience.  Lots and lots of patience.  Thanks Vaughn.