Return to Scenes from (sur)real lifeHolidazed. Again.
(written on 12th of December)It usually starts with thanksgiving, but this year brought sad, traumatic events that had me reaching for the Christmas CDs a few weeks earlier than usual. Every year I look through my collection of Christmas music and wonder "Where did this or that one get off to?" This year I just grabbed the first one I found and stuffed it into the player. I'll find the others later. Once I'm thoroughly sick of the "Jingle Cats", of course.
***** Son is now 16 months old. He's not old enough yet to experience the nostalgia that washes over his old man every Christmas season. He berely notices when we watch Christmas movies or specials. Wife's decorating, on the other hand...
"Jordan! That's not for you!" "Jordan! Put that down!" "Jordan! Don't touch that! It'll hurt you!" "Jordan! Get down offa there!" "Jordan!" "Jordan!" "Jordan!"
I'd say we sound like a broken record, but almost nobody knows what those are anymore. If Son doesn't know his own name by the end of the season, it can't be because he doesn't hear it enough.
The sudden erection of a large, tree-like object festooned with shiny balls, toys, lights, and plastic candy canes simply overwhelms his ability to hear, understand, and (at times) even perceive his parents. When the tree first went up, he'd enter the living room in a fugue of wonder and curiosity. Of course he'd have to pick up, pluck down, or climb up to every object and examine it in minute detail. This would cause little alarm to his mother and I if he didn't put everything in his mouth.
The tree looks a little different than when it first went up. All the little decorations are now higher than Son can reach (and in some instances, climb). Once he learned that these baubles were inaccessible, he regained the ability to leave them alone. "If I can't reach 'em, I'll just have to mess with something else!" At least, that's what I think he's thinking.