I'm a fast-forward sort of person. As in, my brain is always racing, thinking about what I have to do next. It's hard for me to tackle only one thing at at a time. Yoga: no can do. I was pretty much always this way, but parenthood has put me into fast-fast-fast-forward mode.
One blessing of Ben is that he's forcing me to be in the moment. I try not to look at my phone (well, that often!) when I play with him so he doesn't require therapy when he grows up because I ignored him. As a result, he's keeping me more focused—and amazed by the world I'm seeing through his eyes.
Ben's at the stage where everything is wondrous. As I carry him throughout the house, his head whips around as he checks out everything above (light fixtures, ceiling fans, photos on wall) and below (rug, the fridge bottom freezer, toilet and, wowza, light switches)! When I hand him a toy he examines it thoroughly, especially the screws or snaps. Future engineer? Future daydreamer?
Last night, after dinner, I watched him explore a puff. You know, one of those tasteless tidbits that dissolve in babies' mouths. (And I know it's tasteless because I like to try what Ben eats, but at least it's not absolutely vile like formula.) (If you're wondering: Breastmilk tastes like cereal milk.)
He touched the puff. He prodded it. He swatted it around. He attempted to pick it up and put it in his mouth (#fail). And he was so very serious about it. Ben always gets this intense look on his face when he is examining an object, only slightly different than his poop face.
I am similarly taken in by the stuff that makes him laugh. Funny noises work. So does peek-a-boo, every single time. It brings me back to Max's baby days, when he had the laughing down pat (a contagious giggle, like Ben's) but couldn't quite lift his hands up to his eyes so he'd cover his cheeks. It is impossible not to laugh right along with Ben, and his four teeth.
Ben got ahold of my phone the other day (his absolute favorite plaything). He was staring intently at something and gurgling happily, and I leaned over to see what it was.
It was my screensaver, a photo of Max.