The Toy Stuffer Returns

Where will Baby Rangirl’s toys end up next?

This time: between the playpen and a wall.

Experimental Times

Sorry Future Baby Rangirl. Any future ailments can probably be traced back to me. Your love for video games at 5AM before even putting on presentable pants. The need for constant reassurance from society that your jokes are funny. The disdain for people eating their four-course meals on the train. Is your future sibling as messed up as his/her dad too? My bad.

Instead of being a parent we’d choose the camera first to snap the precious moments of you being yourself, rather than whipping you into shape. To the untrained parent, the below just looks like you testing the limitations of your limbs:

In reality, this is probably the reason why you fear tiny wicker baskets and their claustrophobic tendencies.

And then your possible future hate for peanut butter. Like your mother. It was after a trip to the city when you were super cranky and I just wanted to calm you down after you finally got a nap in. So I went to get a smoothie with the intention of sharing it with you while we wait for the train back to Long Island.

“Look at her enjoy the smoothie!” I boasted to Mommy Ranman as Baby Rangirl and I returned to the waiting area. You took the biggest sips of that smoothie, little munchkin.

“Nice,” your mother said, unimpressed after the exhausting trip to the city.

“Yup. Got her a peanut butter and jelly oh my god she isn’t supposed have peanut butter until she’s 2 years old and now I’m the most horrible father ever!!!!” You can imagine my lack of concern to correct my real-time run on sentence.

“Oh my goodness what’s wrong with you?!?” Mommy Ranman exclaimed in a way that almost said “what else is new, you loser?”

That said, thankfully you didn’t seem phased by the peanut butter. If anything you were jonesing for another fix while you gazed longingly at the straw which led the way to your gateway drug. You could be allergic to peanut butter but at the time I couldn’t tell because your cheeks are oh-so-chunky by default.

The 2010′s were an experimental time for people anyway. Dabbling in healthy protein peanut butter smoothies, tripping balls and picking at the grass as you proceeded to do often…a decade of sin.

Terrible Too’s

The terrible “two”s come at 15 months. Not 2. Not in this house. The kid is taking her time to learn two-syllable words but is quick to grasp the concept of throwing phones and remotes like a pro quarterback. Hitting and whining? It’s like she has her own VH1 reality show. Learning exactly who “mama” is? Baby Rangirl gets the question correct 14% of the time. She knows a lot already- routines, where the fish and cat are, when you need a hug…but…

“Terrible too much”, I say. Terrible is a strong word. Maybe weird for a first time dad.

There’s no rhyme/reason to her methods either. She used to fall asleep after her bottle at night and now she just wants to go 200% off the walls. An iPhone used to calm/distract her after a crying session. Now that iPhone has a 56% chance of ending on the floor or in the sink.

Some of her other actions that indicate we are in for more exhaustion:

Toys end up in our slider door.

The bites are getting more epic.

On a trip to the aquarium, this was one of maybe 4 times when she wasn’t acting up.

An antsy Baby Rangirl before crying from over exhaustion during her trip to the city.

Some of this is from her teething phase. Some from boredom. Some from her being a weirdo like her dad. All before the age of 2.

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner…

…because she’s busy stuffing herself in a box.

Baptized!

Sure, you were the oldest of three kids getting baptized on Sunday- and yes, you were clearly telling people to “go!” while the other 2 children were learning to flex their hands- but you played with that holy water in the fountain like a boss. In your pilgrim bonnet, no less. You splashed the water around while getting doused with water.

First Game of Hide-and-Seek

Mommy Ranman didn’t even know she was being included in an intense game of hide-and-seek…if anything methinks it is Baby Rangirl who can’t find herself. Whoa, that’s philosophically deep.

B is for Baby

As we do our best to teach this kid how to communicate to humans, we begin to notice all the words that begin with the letter “b”. And boy is the long. There are some essential words that I’ll jot down for Baby #2 that we’re trying to teach now (listed in no particular order, especially not alphabetical…imagine the work involved with all the sorting?):

-Baby
-Buju (nickname for our cat)
-Boom (nickname for Baby Rangirl, because everything just goes “boom” with her to help give away her location in the house)
-Bilbo (name of our fish)
-Biznitch (clean word for “bitch”, which is a nickname for the cat)
-Bath
-Ball
-Boat (toy, we don’t own an actual one since as a minority I never learned to swim)
-Bourgeoise (since our baby is a mixed-race-product, it’s easier to explain her financial class than her origins)
-Bed
-Bikram (a common Indian name she’ll probably encounter during multiple calls to tech support…or what most people assume my name is)
-Bye
-Babe Ruth
-Bisquick (because, who really has time to make pancakes from scratch)
-Bottle
- (the current first “B” word/phrase that shows up on Google)

-Bored (without a remote control, IPad, and you can’t tell but also an iPhone in the other hand)