September 2011
Restraint is defined as: a control over the expression of one's emotions or thoughts. I have a hard time believing that I lack the ability of self control, especially over my thoughts. (pause) Okay after reading over that last sentence it dawned on me, I don't think I lack the ability, I lack the capacity. I have gone on long enough. What the heck are we having a hard time mustering the restraint to..for..about, whatever? We have a hard time remembering that Ryan is not a toy. When I say we, I mean me. I heart playing with Ryan. Everything is a game or an opportunity for song and dance. Why? I dunno. Maybe it is that he smiles alot and that seems like an invitation. The invite reads, "hey daddy, I'm cute, wanna play?" he is like a crafty warlock casting his spell upon me and all I can say is, "uh huh, okay!" Sometimes I feel that all I was put on this earth to do is play with Ryan.
I have the luxury waking him up in the morning, getting him dressed and we do the Hot Dog Dance with the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse every morning before I drive him to Mimi's. The morning time is a very hustle and bustle time for Ang and I. Get bottles ready, make sure he has everything ready for Tami's and out the door. Typical house hold I am guessing, but for some reason Ang and I always find time to play with him once he is dressed even if it is just for a minute. When I pick him up around 4pm we usually come straight home and play. We do flips, tickles and I like to chase him around the house. He screams as he tries to get away. Sometimes I catch myself playing with him like I was a kid and he is my action figure or a Little People toy figurine. I like to talk as if it were Ryan's voice, "copy that Captain we are coming in for a landing...Woooosshh!" Sometimes we do the Superman thing were he flies around the room. We do the lines from the movie, "if you got me, who's got you?!!" and then I act like I drop him. He acts like he is scared for a second and then starts laughing. He is such a funny kid, just about anything gets him giggling. The best is when Ang works late and it is just us guys. We take our shirts off and play until 9pm or so. His bedtime is 7:30, but we don't care, Mom isn't home. Our guy credo is: While the girls are away the boys will play.
Is it a good thing or is a bad thing? Is playing with him all the time bad for his development? Should I be spending more time working with his motor skills, standing skills walking skills or verbal skills. Maybe I should teach him to blow kisses, clap his hands or say bye, bye. I can't help it if all I want to do is play, but so does he. I am sure he is getting plenty of proper learnin' from his mother and Tami. It reminds me of Rick Moranis and Steve Martin in Parenthood. See Rick Moranis's character is teaching his 3 year old daughter the square root of a large number and Steve Martin walks in holding his kid upside down with a toy stuffed in his mouth...
(Rick Moranis is teaching his kid square roots with flash cards and starts talking to Steve Martin)
"Our children are more capable of absorbing more information than we are..."(Steve Martin holding his kid by the feet playing - Rick Moranis continues)
"..yet we insist on treating them like adorable little morons....they´re like sponges, Gil, just waiting to absorb."
Is this what I am doing, treating Ryan like an adorable moron? I do walk around carrying the dude by his ankles. In my defeatist tone I have to say, Crap! He is a sponge, maybe I should work with him more. Heck, did you see my grades in school? I am not sure if I am the guy you want developing a child, we should just leave that for his mother. He needs his play time and I guess I need my Little People action figure time too. The funny thing is as a parent you can't help, but think that you are going to do something or not do something that is going to change your kid for the worse. I don't want to look back and wonder if I had only played with him more or maybe I should have played with him less and work on developing him more. I wish I could do everything perfect and he is top of his class at everything. I can only pass along to the Turdman what I know and that is having fun. I want him to know what playing is and how to use your imagination. Who needs toys when you have a giggling, screaming, crawling, pooping Little People figure to play with any time I want?
Maybe I am making this too hard. What ever happens, happens as long as you are having fun and you love the little turd. I guess I wish God would have giving me a warning or hint when he told me, "Chris, go over to that shelf and pick out a toy." Because I did and when I sat down, tore open the box to see my new toy, there were no instructions. The box only had some disclaimer and highlighted features, but who reads that crap? I want the toy! If I would muster the restraint needed, I would have read the instructions and I would have realized that it read: This is not a toy, this is a sweet baby boy. He is not just for play. He is a sponge ready to absorb, develop and love. Caution: Excessive shaking could result in stinky toots and diaper blow outs may occur.
