Matthew is going through a phase where, when tired, upset, or content, he just wants to be with Mommy. Sometimes he gets over it. For example, today at the mall Matthew only cried for 30 seconds when Mike took him from me. He seemed to regain composure when it looked like the shopkeeper had pushed the silent alarm and help was on the way. However, there are other times, such as the morning mealing hour, when it is best Daddy just pass him over. Matthew will literally turn himself around in Mike's arms and lunge toward me. He gains the momentum necessary to lunge by forcibly pushing his fist into Daddy's cheek. Or eye. Or jugular. Apparently, this is how you thank the person who just dragged himself out of bed to remove ten-hour old feces that had wedged itself throughout the entire expanse of your butt crack and made its way under your testicles.
Speaking of testicles and feces, Matthew has recently discovered he has testicles. Unfortunately, he has not discovered the dangers of feces. Every time we change him, he immediately starts to tug at his balls. Which would be cute if he didn't get poop on his balls and he didn't like to follow his self-exploration with a trip to the face. Pinkeye, here we come.
Anywhoddle, back to Matthew's Herculean efforts to evade Daddy and return to Mommy. You may now be thinking, "Matthew must really be an active little boy." If you are thinking that, you are stupid, irresponsible and never to be trusted. Because if there is anything Matthew cares less about than Daddy's feelings, it is learning crawl.
As we probably have already discussed on the blog, Matthew is a World Champion Sitter. As long as one of us parks him on his can, he can play and/or vegetate for hours at a time; he also can maintain his sit while spinning a full 360 degrees. Of course, if one of us does not park him on his can, he has zero chance of ending up in the sitting position by himself. Additionally, Matthew is a transcendent log roller. He can get anywhere he wants, in any direction, using this strategy. What he can't do, and apparently has no Earthly interest in ever doing, is learning to crawl. Or Army crawl. Or gracefully go from sitting to lying on his stomach. That said, he does deserve credit for mastering falling backwards and slamming his head into his construction set for reasons unknown.
On the subject of criticizing our son's physical nature, a final anecdote. Matthew grabs for everything. This is good, given his age and the desired developmental milestones. What is interesting is that if the object is not within arm's reach, he immediately stops trying and returns to sitting contently. No fussing, no crying, no further desperate grasps. He accepts the situation and moves on. We are not yet sure whether to be thrilled with his emotional maturity or devastated by his unequivocal willingness to give up.
In closing, neither of us care how long it takes Matthew to walk, crawl or develop sticktoitiveness. It will all come in time. The sooner he crawls, the sooner he walks, the sooner he runs, the sooner he leaves for college. Quite frankly, I am more than happy to have him just sitting on the activity mat, staring slack-jawed at the ceiling fan.
In case you couldn't tell, E started this post and I finished it. We're all about teamwork in the family.
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