Bag of wonders
(I hope that the title above doesn't have any secondary drug-related meanings. I am bad about being naive about that sort of stuff, so excuse my title if it means something other than what's totally innocent. :) Okay, on to the post.)
Going anywhere with an energetic toddler requires lots of planning and forethought. I have been forced to have this ingrained into my head, and it's stuck for good. Nevermind the fact that this means it takes me at least 45 minutes of prep time before I can even lock the door and leave home.
To keep Gardner pacified when in a store, in the library, or in a meeting (like I was in today), it requires a plethora of interesting novelty trinkets with which to entertain him. I keep so many things in my purse. I'd love to scale its size down, but I just don't know how I can now. It's insanely packed with nonrelated items such as pens, pencils, lipsticks, iPod earbuds, post-it notes, chapsticks, spare keys, calculators, and even kiddie-inspired objects such as 25-cent rubber bouncy balls and Hello Kitty keychains.
I pull out one by one when absolutely necessary, i.e., when Gardner just cannot sit still one minute longer. It appeases him more if I let him pull things out himself, but it also requires a close watch to make sure he doesn't dump the entire contents onto the floor of wherever we happen to be at the time.
Last resort, when Ken is with me, is Ken's cell phone. When tears fall and nothing will satisfy Gardner's craving for diversion, this little gadget never fails to bring a smile.
I criticized last night my own fervency in creating a never-stopping stream of diversions for him. I hope this won't jump up to bite me when he's in class and will have to sit still and pay attention just because the teacher says to. (Maybe he'll be one of those kids I always sat next to who hid spider rings or rub-off tattoos in their desk cubbies, pulling them out sporadically and smiling when he or she manages to play right under the teacher's nose. I hope not!)
But sometimes, for your sanity and for the quiet needed in special situations (i.e., an important meeting or a ceremony of some sort), a bag of wonders, so to speak, comes in very handy.
I have to admit, even though I'll be 28 years old in just two weeks, I have a bag myself. I call it my "fun bag," and I've carried around one ever since I was 8 or so. Though what's in it has changed, I bet you will easily find on any given day (on any given road excursion we take) a book of word-find puzzles in there somewhere amidst all of the novels, water bottles, and red licorice candy. I guess he gets it honestly.
Going anywhere with an energetic toddler requires lots of planning and forethought. I have been forced to have this ingrained into my head, and it's stuck for good. Nevermind the fact that this means it takes me at least 45 minutes of prep time before I can even lock the door and leave home.
To keep Gardner pacified when in a store, in the library, or in a meeting (like I was in today), it requires a plethora of interesting novelty trinkets with which to entertain him. I keep so many things in my purse. I'd love to scale its size down, but I just don't know how I can now. It's insanely packed with nonrelated items such as pens, pencils, lipsticks, iPod earbuds, post-it notes, chapsticks, spare keys, calculators, and even kiddie-inspired objects such as 25-cent rubber bouncy balls and Hello Kitty keychains.
I pull out one by one when absolutely necessary, i.e., when Gardner just cannot sit still one minute longer. It appeases him more if I let him pull things out himself, but it also requires a close watch to make sure he doesn't dump the entire contents onto the floor of wherever we happen to be at the time.
Last resort, when Ken is with me, is Ken's cell phone. When tears fall and nothing will satisfy Gardner's craving for diversion, this little gadget never fails to bring a smile.
I criticized last night my own fervency in creating a never-stopping stream of diversions for him. I hope this won't jump up to bite me when he's in class and will have to sit still and pay attention just because the teacher says to. (Maybe he'll be one of those kids I always sat next to who hid spider rings or rub-off tattoos in their desk cubbies, pulling them out sporadically and smiling when he or she manages to play right under the teacher's nose. I hope not!)
But sometimes, for your sanity and for the quiet needed in special situations (i.e., an important meeting or a ceremony of some sort), a bag of wonders, so to speak, comes in very handy.
I have to admit, even though I'll be 28 years old in just two weeks, I have a bag myself. I call it my "fun bag," and I've carried around one ever since I was 8 or so. Though what's in it has changed, I bet you will easily find on any given day (on any given road excursion we take) a book of word-find puzzles in there somewhere amidst all of the novels, water bottles, and red licorice candy. I guess he gets it honestly.
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