By which, dudes, I mean that every decision seems inevitable when you look back on it once it’s been made.
Whether you’re looking back in triumph or regret quite definitely colors how you view that decision.
If I’m being a bit obtuse today, it’s because I’ve been thinking about decisions, how we make them and just how many billions of dollars I could earn if only I could find some way of forecasting accurately the outcome of parental decisions.
Mostly because I just saw a really funny time-travel short movie.
Today, over at Charlotte Parent, I’ll be talking about hindsight and showcasing the funny movie I referenced above. As usual, I’ll be blogging under our Stay-At-Home Dudes column name.
Zippy the Travelin’ Boy, Hyper Lad and I had to make a quick trip to the nation’s capital so that my middle son could live up to his new name.
I’m more than happy to talk to all you dudes and dudettes about the whole thing (that is, whine, whine, whine). . . However, I sort of ran out of time and had to drive home all day yesterday. Which meant I didn’t have time to do more than, well, this.
However, if you’re missing your almost-daily dude dose, I’ve got good news. I’ve just been asked to be a return guest on WCNC’s Charlotte Today newsotainment program.
I’ll be there talking about how dads get shortchanged on Fathers’ Day as compared to moms on Mothers’ Day. Whining! It’s what I do best. Although, this is more-than-short notice, so I’m going to have to work to be funny.
On the day the little dude figures out just what — exactly — the wriggly things on the ends of his hands are for, it marks a major turning point in his relationship with his parents.
Whereas, before the epiphany, mom, dad and little dudette were living in a state of blissful harmony, marked by glances full of love and adoration, it’s a whole different ball of goop after.
Before, you could put the little dude in a high chair next to a table and
have him sit there blissfully playing with whatever happened to be in front of him. Which let Mom and Dad eat relatively leisurely and without much incident.
And then the little dudette gains the smallest extra bit of self awareness and realizes that she can cause change in the environment around herself. And she can do it with her hands because they — holds up hands in front of wide eyes and wriggles fingers back and forth like a stoner realizing for the first that the four fingers are like a highway and the thumb is a little off ramp and whoa! Dude! doesn’t that just blow your mind? — allow her to grabstuff.
Even better, those two hands and ten fingers allow her to grab stuff and then throw it anywhere. Or knock stuff over. Or, best of all, grab stuff, use that stuff to throw and knock over more stuff and watch Mommy and Daddy freak out, jump up and start talking funny and blotting at their clothing with napkins.
And here’s the thing. Even when new parents accustom themselves to the idea that their little dude can now grab stuff, it still takes a while before the really understand that he can lean farther than they think and knock over stuff a really big distance away.
It happened to me. When Sarcasmo was a young ‘un, maybe a year or so, his grandmother, Kaki (who was my mom) went away for a week or so. This was during the time he discovered the wriggly things and grabbing stuff.
Kaki asked to hold Sarcasmo while we were out to eat for a friendly lunch at a Gainesville diner. I warned her about his newfound propensity for grabbing stuff. She glared at me, silently reassuring me that she managed to raise me and my sister and she knew what she was doing thank you very much you young know-it-all. Mom had very expressive eyes.
What Kaki had forgotten was that reflexes, if not used, will sometimes decay. She stood Sarcasmo up in her lap, facing the table, and having fun.
He managed to get a salt shaker and mostly full glass of Diet Coke before I could get him free from Kaki’s lap and into his car seat, which we were using as a high chair. Kaki insisted on having Sarcasmo sit next to her.
He managed to get the refilled Diet Coke and a very mean look from the waitress who had to clean it up. Again.
Even experienced parents can misjudge the reach of a newly grabby little dude. Much less those new parents who have no experience to fall back on in their panic.
And this is before we bring in poisons and cleaning supplies and the like into the equation.
All is not lost, though.
To combat a little dude’s propensity for grabbing stuff, you only need to remove from his immediately surrounding environment anything that you could grab with your arms. And lock up all cabinets with the most parent-annoying security system imaginable, and then use them.
Footnotes & Errata
* That was a lie. There are a lot of worries. It’s not until you get to your third or so kid that you stop worrying and begin to think you know it all. Of course, that’s when everyone around you begins to panic because they just don’t understand that a toddler juggling razor-sharp knives while riding a kiddie unicycle is just little dudes being little dudes.