Puppeteer

In October I noticed Jake was starting to get a little pushy.  I mean, pushier than usual.  Perhaps physically ambitious is a better descriptor.

On the airplane to DC, he took my hand and used it to make the window shade go up and down.  Then he started grabbing my arms and pulling me toward whatever object he wanted me to manipulate.  He physically attempts to push my entire body across the room, off my (“his”) chair, out of his way in the shower.  Even with my new found baby heft, he’s surprisingly strong, and painfully persistent.

I’ve spent most of my Christmas vacation on the floor… playing, wrestling, tickling, reading.  “Sit here, sit here, Mama.”  As he pats the spot where I’m supposed to sit.   “Reach it, reach it.”  “Get it, get it.”  He likes to take my face and turn it, “Look, Mama, look.”  I am supposed to carry him around while he points out our intended destination, “This way, this way.”  I’m really just a big life size doll for him to maneuver.

Over the last few days I mostly hear, “Pay, Mama, pay.”  Then he  pats the floor or pulls me off the couch toward his toys.

At this stage, hoisting the little puppeteer around and spending the majority of the day playing on the floor is beginning to take its toll…

“OK, Mama can pay.  How much for a nap?  One for you and one for me?”