Beyond the Boo-rricade

In recent weeks, Benjamin has developed an unhealthy obsession with Oliver's food. I call it an "unhealthy" obsession, not only because dog food is a choking hazard for babies, but also because Benjamin truly has become a baby obsessed. Benjamin seems to sense the moment Oliver's food bowl has been filled. It's as though the kibble sends out a homing signal to him that he is to drop what's he's doing and crawl like mad towards the kitchen. As a result, I've had to fashion a barricade to keep Benjamin out of the kitchen when Oliver is dining.

Unfortunately, Benjamin has figured out how to get around the barricade, or "boo-rricade," as we've come to call it. It's actually quite impressive how quickly he's able to create a baby-sized opening in it to dart through.
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Once inside the boo-rricade, Benjamin frantically attempts to cram as much kibble into his mouth as possible before mommy stops him. Shockingly enough, Oliver doesn't seem to mind a bit that a tiny intruder is pilfering his food. To be able to really appreciate just how much of a shock it is, take a look at this video of Vince trying to steal Oliver's bone:

This video was taken in Oliver's younger days, so perhaps the pug is getting soft in his old age. Either that, or he's just softening up to his little brother. Not that he'd ever admit it.

Benjamin the Banshee

Benjamin may have inherited his father's good looks and sweet disposition, but those pipes came straight from his mama's side of the gene pool.

His Own Magic Kingdom

Vince and I aren't big fans of Disneyland. For us, Disneyland conjures up images of long lines, creaky old rides that end in shiny stores filled with expensive goodies, and overtired children cranky from too much sugar and stimulation. And what about those exorbitant ticket prices? We'd rather take the money we'd spend on one day at the Magic Kingdom and spend it on something else. Like a year of college tuition for Benjamin.

I guess it's a good thing that Benjamin finds his own home to be magical enough. His days are filled with exploring caves, banging on drums, and hunting for treasure. The best part is that we didn't have to spend a dime on any of it, because everything is right here already. Take a look at that picture of Benjamin above and on the right. He's sitting in front of a step stool holding a spatula, right? WRONG! He's actually sitting in front of a bongo drum holding a drumstick. And when he gets bored with his bongo drum, it will morph into something else, perhaps a walker, a climbing wall, or a table. And that spatula? He'll probably use it to poke Oliver in his oshiri. And then I'll use it at a later time to cook dinner. Ew, gross!

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I could fill pages listing the different "toys" Benjamin has discovered around the house, but I'll just name a few of his favorites. Before I do, however, I have to add a very important disclaimer: INSPECT ANY HOUSEHOLD OBJECT BEFORE GIVING IT TO A BABY. Make sure it's reasonably clean and free of potential choking hazards. And, of course, adult supervision is strongly suggested. Now on to the fun stuff...

Dryer balls - These spiky plastic balls are the perfect size for Benjamin's little hands to grasp, they don't roll too far away if dropped, and they make great teethers.

Empty tissue boxes - I remove any dangly plastic bits first, and then I stuff them with objects of varying textures and sizes for Benjamin to discover: nylon bibs, small toys, and baby washcloths, to name a few.

Empty cardboard boxes - The mega-size diaper box pictured above has been reincarnated as a clubhouse, table, toy chest, and/or hiding place. Make sure that any boxes you use are free from staples, old tape, or dangling flaps.

Gladware - This is a favorite! Smaller Gladware containers are the perfect size for Benjamin to bang together as noisemakers or to chew on. Larger ones can be turned into rattles by filling them with baby-safe objects such as pacificiers, spoons, or plastic toy links. I'll also dangle toys off of the lip of the containers with plastic toy links.

Paper - I had to include one section devoted just to paper. Benjamin LOVES paper: tissue paper, magazines, wrapping paper, waxed paper, and the list goes on. He loves the satisfying sound it makes when he balls it up or flaps it around, and he loves how it changes shape based on how he crinkles, folds, or rips it. When we finally got window treatments for the big windows in his playroom, I stuck the temporary shade we no longer needed onto the sliding glass door, and watched Benjamin amuse himself with it. He crawled beneath it like it was a cave. He grabbed it with his hands, shrieking with delight at the sound it made. He sat quietly and observed the sun streaming through it. It was such a treat watching him enjoy himself in this simple way.

I could also devote an entire section to the things around the house that I'd rather he NOT turn into toys. Oliver's water bowl is one. My stash of expensive yarn is another. I've learned to remove both from his reach when he's on the prowl.

The most prized "toy" in Benjamin's Magic Kingdom, however, is always within his reach. This toy has served as climbing wall, armchair, jumperoo, hammock, and jungle gym.

And you know what's kinda neat thing about this particular toy? There's not one, but TWO, of them! So if one wears out, there's always the other one to step in and keep the little guy going.

Going... Going... Gone!

After writing the last post in which I mentioned that I'd gotten a haircut, I received a flurry of emails. "How short is your hair?" "Did you cut it ALL off?" "Does Vince like it?" The answers to those questions are, "Pretty damn short," "Yes," and "Does it matter?" Actually, it does matter, but right now, it matters more that I save fifteen minutes every day by having short hair. Still, I feel slightly guilty that my new coif looks nothing like the shiny mane I used to first lure him in. Ok, it wasn't the shiny mane that did it. It was my winning personality, quick wit, and gentle nature. HA!

When Vince and I first started dating, I had long hair. Ridiculously long hair. It was so long that I could tuck it into my pants. It was so long that it got caught in the car door if I closed it too quickly. It was so long that I'd wake myself up at night by rolling over on to it. It was so long that yo mama went to the movies and sat next to everyone. You get the picture. Vince loved my hair, I loved Vince, so the hair got to stay. For a while.
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A couple of months passed, and I developed a theory that Vince might love me for more than my hair. To test this theory, I decided to cut off about half of it. I still had plenty left. In fact, I used some of it to tie all these old clothes into bales after this failed yard sale.

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My theory proved correct, because Vince proposed to me not too long after that yard sale. I decided to throw the guy a bone and grow my hair out for the wedding.

The week we returned from our honeymoon, however, I made the bold decision to test our love by cutting my hair drastically. The man had married me, so I was safe now! Muahahaha!! And as the vows went, "through richer and poorer, in sickness and in health, for long or for short."

Fast forward one year later: I'm standing in the middle of my home with a baby crawling up my legs, a pug shedding all over the floor, spit-up on my shirt, clutter up to my ears, a sinkful of dirty dishes, three baskets of laundry to fold, and no time to even finish my coffee. I made the decision then and there to simplify my life and chop off the rest of my hair.

It's great! I just wake up in the morning, comb some water through it, and that's it! And the best part is that I'm pretty sure Vince still digs me even though we have practically the same haircut. Ain't love grand?

Now excuse me while I go finish my coffee.