Inevitably, there are things I want my son to be doing, and yet he hasn’t developed or grown up enough to be able to enjoy them yet (lazy). He’s getting there, but it’s slow going. I think it may have something to do with the fact he’s still bald.
Hugging is one – Claire longs for the day when our son will bang his knee, or graze his elbow, and reach out to her for a comforting cuddle – not that I’m saying Claire wants harm to come to Ned, of course, just the opportunity to make things better when they do happen. Currently, a hug (or cuddle) consists of us cuddling him, and Ned doing his utmost to ensure that he is not part of it. Hair pulling, eye gouging, head butting, kicking and slapping are all actions you may associate with a wrestling match or a cuddle with our son.
Tickling is another. I’m positive my son is ticklish, I’m just uncertain that he knows this. When I tickle him, either through rib tickling, neck poking or a good old fashioned raspberry on the exposed gut, Ned smiles, but it seems forced, as if he’s humouring me, admiring the effort I’m putting in to make him laugh, so flashing me a smile. It’s a bit patronising, to be honest, but I will persevere. It’s only a matter of
Third, and this is relatively new – we have aquired a door bouncer, which is basically a method of suspending your vulnerable, tiny baby in the air so his feet just touch the cold, hard floor, enabling them to bounce half heartedly for their own enjoyment.
For months, I’ve wanted one – I think they’re hilarious, and if my son isn’t going to play with me, or talk to me, then I may as well get my kicks from laughing at him. Plonking him in the bouncer resulted in crying initially (I knocked his head on the frame) followed by long periods of uneventful dangling. He doesn’t bounce per se, more aimlessly spins in circles, waiting to be taken out so he can resume what he actually wants to do, which is chew things and stand.