June 25, 2004
 
pain, envy & age

Two stories & one cluster of observations from last Tuesday’s Baby & Me exercise class.

  1. Pain:

    Blake’s a pretty tough cookie. Now that he’s dragging himself around the floor with energetic zeal, he’s bumping his head with alarming regularity. But he doesn’t usually fuss when he conks onto a hard surface…or when he scratches himself…or when he plunges out of my arms and dangles precariously from his wrist. (The exceptions occur when he’s already tired and shouting; then if his head touches the wooden arm of the rocking chair he howls like he’s being tortured.)

    There were only 2 other moms at the class and before we started, we put all the babies on the centre mat. This worked out really well at first; the babies weren’t entirely reliant on developmental toys and much less bored. But the poking and clutching was unbelievable! Blake’s a pretty pokey guy, so I mostly play defense for the other babies. This time I was stunned to see the other little boy use a healthy handful of Blake’s hair as a belaying rope to lower himself onto the mat.

    This time, Blake cried. But it didn’t last long. He’s still pretty tough.

  2. Envy:

    I have a problem with envy. It manifests itself in lots of unpleasant little ways, all of which prove that envy is inherently stupid. Case in point: at the end of the class, the very nice instructor (who was calm when Blake peed on her 4 months ago) brought out some token gifts, compliments of the city. As there were 3 of us, we quickly determined that 2 would get pens and 1 would get an umbrella. Well, I haven’t had a good umbrella since Nova Scotia, and I conceived of a sudden and dreadful passion for that golf umbrella. In a flash, I imagined myself using it to protect the Sprout & myself from the rain.

    I got a pen.

    How could I be so disappointed, so terribly bitter about not getting that umbrella? It’s not like I’ve spent several months pining for an umbrella. It’s not like I can’t borrow my parents’ golf umbrella or even buy my own if I really want it. But no. I had to make myself sick for the loss of a souvenir umbrella. You see? Envy is stupid.

  3. Age:

    This was the last exercise class of the session, and I suddenly realized how far my wee Blakedor & his tired mama has come since we first hit the mats. Not only can I now do a 20 minute floor routine without collapsing, but Blake has grown exponentially. He used to be a tiny little guy who could be placed on the middle of a mat & wouldn’t do more than kick until he got bored & started to cry. Now he's a mobile little explorer who immediately flips over & starts creeping across the floor. He still prefers my arms to the boredom of the mat, at least until I start to sweat, but he’s become quite the little wiggly babyweight. Plus he’s been exposed to at least half a dozen songs that now make him clap & jump for joy.

    I'm sure that I'll be just as amazed in another 4 months. That's the beauty of it all.




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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*