At 19 months old, Ben has discovered the joys of climbing—on the couch, up the steps, all over Sabrina. Sometimes, Max falls asleep before Ben does and when I walk into Max's bedroom to tuck him in Ben will clamber onto his bed and poke at his face. Max thinks this is really funny. Ben squawks when I scoop him up and carry him out.
It's been a good ten years since I've had a kid climbing over stuff, and I don't much remember Sabrina being that rambunctious although I do recall that she liked to open the refrigerator and perch on the bottom ledge (Ben can't do that because we have a bottom freezer now). She also loved to tear up newspapers (Ben got the same gene). Dave and I are a little bit nervous (WATCH HIM!) and a lot amazed at this bundle of energy. Also: We are tired.
At Ben's age, Max was just getting into commando crawling, pulling himself along on his arms like a soldier. Watching him move around was as awe-inspiring as Ben's feats of climbing.
Sabrina's taken to calling Ben Monkey Boy. My favorite move of all is when Ben climbs into the space beneath his high chair and hangs. The other day, he sat there for a few minutes and played with a ring stacker, just a small moment that felt large. Mostly I'm chasing Ben around, holding his hand as he attempts to rock-climb up an armchair, or trying to hold him down on the changing room table as he does a back handspring. It's rare to catch sight of him staying put, let alone pondering and developing an inner life.
Two minutes later, he was climbing onto the couch again, flopping down and giggling as I held out an arm to keep him safe and laughed along with him.
He could have a future as an athlete, but don't get your hopes up. My parents thought I'd cure cancer, but I just ended up being one of the many dime a dozen flutists in high school band.
ReplyDeleteI have a funny story relating to how Ben sits under the highchair. One day when I had been put in either a playpen or bouncer or something of that sort, my parents had gone into the other room and left my brother and I in the living room as he was playing with his play mobile fire and ambulance figures. When they came back I was happily sitting underneath a table and when they asked my brother "Winston, how'd that happen?" He simply replied "It was the ambulance drivers." And since I had only recently gotten home from the hospital there was an ambulance stationed outside talking with a therapist. We still have no idea what the true story is to this day but it's highly likely Winston took me out and put me under the table, not the ambulance drivers?
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