Did You Know My Name is Flash?
Friday evening Justine, Oliver, Bella, and I met up in Central Park during my nightly trek home from work. It was overcast and had rained earlier in the day, but we have a $2 shower curtain that we use as a (waterproof) blanket and thus we were all set to enjoy a few minutes watching coed softball on The Great Lawn.
Soon another family located themselves nearby. It was a mother, her daughter and younger son. Fitting perfectly with the stereotypes of young boys vs. young girls, the older sister sat dutifully by her mother’s side while her sibling blasted about attempting to wreak havoc wherever he could. It wasn’t long before he paid our blanket a visit and asked, “Did you know my name is Flash”? We responded that we did not. He cocked his head and replied, “That’s because I’m very fast” and, with that said, off he raced to who knows where leaving us to ponder how we’ll manage Oliver when he’s a bit more grown and bursting at the seams with that kind of energy.
We had a weekend in the City, electing to avoid the long journey to the Cape due to another round of expected downpours. It has been a wet, wet summer with only two weeks having passed without major rain. So, we stayed in the City and began the arduous task of toddler-proofing our apartment. Going with the rain theme, we battened down the hatches. Plastic socket covers, door clips, snaps, children’s gates, etc. have entered our lives at every turn. Oliver is now busy exploring his kinetic side (An Olie in motion tends to stay in motion) and he's a serious and foreceful havoc-wreaking machine. You’ll turn away from him for 3 seconds, then turn back to discover he’s got his thumb in Bella’s eye. Not surprisingly, we’re also now training Bella that growling in response to such indignities (while it might seem the logical approach) is simply not an option for her. It is a tough pill for her to swallow and I can’t say as I really blame her.
By Sunday afternoon, both mom & pops were pretty beat. We decided to cheat a bit on our anti-vidiot, no TV policy, and snuck off to see a cave spelunking documentary at The Natural History Museum. Once in the theatre, we gave Olie a bottle. He then promptly stuffed his thumb in his mouth and leaned back in my arms to watch the spectacle. Not a peep came from the boy during the flick and we finally gained ourselves a relaxing 30 minutes or so (just 30 minutes as we had arrived late). It becomes easier to see why so many people elect to have TVs everywhere, even in their cars.
Soon another family located themselves nearby. It was a mother, her daughter and younger son. Fitting perfectly with the stereotypes of young boys vs. young girls, the older sister sat dutifully by her mother’s side while her sibling blasted about attempting to wreak havoc wherever he could. It wasn’t long before he paid our blanket a visit and asked, “Did you know my name is Flash”? We responded that we did not. He cocked his head and replied, “That’s because I’m very fast” and, with that said, off he raced to who knows where leaving us to ponder how we’ll manage Oliver when he’s a bit more grown and bursting at the seams with that kind of energy.
We had a weekend in the City, electing to avoid the long journey to the Cape due to another round of expected downpours. It has been a wet, wet summer with only two weeks having passed without major rain. So, we stayed in the City and began the arduous task of toddler-proofing our apartment. Going with the rain theme, we battened down the hatches. Plastic socket covers, door clips, snaps, children’s gates, etc. have entered our lives at every turn. Oliver is now busy exploring his kinetic side (An Olie in motion tends to stay in motion) and he's a serious and foreceful havoc-wreaking machine. You’ll turn away from him for 3 seconds, then turn back to discover he’s got his thumb in Bella’s eye. Not surprisingly, we’re also now training Bella that growling in response to such indignities (while it might seem the logical approach) is simply not an option for her. It is a tough pill for her to swallow and I can’t say as I really blame her.
By Sunday afternoon, both mom & pops were pretty beat. We decided to cheat a bit on our anti-vidiot, no TV policy, and snuck off to see a cave spelunking documentary at The Natural History Museum. Once in the theatre, we gave Olie a bottle. He then promptly stuffed his thumb in his mouth and leaned back in my arms to watch the spectacle. Not a peep came from the boy during the flick and we finally gained ourselves a relaxing 30 minutes or so (just 30 minutes as we had arrived late). It becomes easier to see why so many people elect to have TVs everywhere, even in their cars.
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