Nov 21 – The Emperor’s Clothes

 

Luca’s been wearing pajamas for the last 3½ month. When in Paris – world fashion city – do as the Parisians do. So he’s up for an upgrade.  So in the last 2 days, he’s been wearing sweaters and pants.  The sweaters are a little big, so they get in the way when he tries to put his hand in his mouth.  The hand gets jammed in some extra fabric, and he seems puzzled that it’s not getting in his mouth. The pants are too small to fit his big belly, so I had to find pairs with a wide waist and a button I can unclip. Clothes are really less convenient than simple pajamas, and I don’t really understand why kids don’t wear pajamas through the day till they’re much older.  Luca says so himself.  When I take his pants off and he’s playing with his butt out in the air, he smiles and kicks around with his legs in approbation.  But with his clothes on, he looks like a little boy now, older than he looked when he wore his pajamas. I even find myself expecting more of him when he’s dressed up  — more hand eye coordination, longer sounds.  “The clothes do make the (little) man”

His first games

Luca and I were getting ready to head outside for walk. I was singing a song and dancing around in the hall way, waiting for the elevator.  I hopped once.  He looked surprised.  I smiled back at him. I hopped twice.  He smiled.  I hopped thrice, he smiled with a sound (call it a laugh?). We stopped for a few seconds and resumed the song.  Hop once, he stares at me.  Hop twice, he smiles. Hop 3 times, he laughs.  And again.  And again.

Now I wonder – does he really enjoy the hopping to the point of laughing? Or does he get a vibe from me that this is a game and he should smile?  He seems to smile only after I repeat a trick 2 or 3 times at least. Then he gets it’s a game.

Parent slavery

So Luca can grab a toy if I put it close to his hand. The flip side of that is that he always ends up mistakenly (or so I believe) dropping it shortly after. The long slavery of the parents is starting.  I give Luca a toy, he grabs it, plays with it, drops it, complains.  I pick up the toy, he plays with it, drops it, complains. I pick up the toy, he plays with it, drops it, complains. He doesn’t seem to think this is a problem.  And when I explain to him he really has to hang on to his toys because I may not be always around to give them back to him, he smiles back with his enormous toothless smile that makes anyone feel like picking up the toy one more time…

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