Frenzied Play

The little boy and I stagger in the backdoor at the end of the day, happy to be home. Finn exceedingly so. Whereas I, if given the choice, would change into my pajamas and find my way to the couch with a glass of wine and my book, Finn proceeds to buzz about at a frantic pace. You’d think he would be worn out from playing all day at Margie’s house, but perhaps this late afternoon burst of energy is because, just as for adults, there’s no place like home. Maybe he misses his toys. Yesterday he seemed particularly geared up, maybe because he’s been a bit under the weather this week and was finally starting to feel like his normal, fast-paced self. Thus, when we arrived home yesterday, Finn’s first ten minutes “out of the gate” unfolded something like this…

We enter the kitchen greeted by Calvert. Before I manage to get the door shut, Finn “hugs” (or rather lunges on top of) Calvert in the doorway. He climbs off Calvert and plows into the living room shouting “ball.” Finding an acceptable ball among his collection, he begins throwing practice. While Finn follows the ball across the playroom, I follow behind him, attempting to pull off his hat. Throwing the ball again, it hits his head and bounces behind him. Since he can’t immediately locate it, time to move on to another ball. I capture him and attempt to unzip his coat. Trying to scurry away from me, I manage to grab hold of the bottom of the sleeves with his arms behind him, and he is free! Forgetting about the balls, he dumps out a box of flashcards and chooses one to study for a quiet moment, just as the phone rings.

After a moment of looking at his book, Finn glances up and sees I am on the phone. Whining in order to obtain the phone for himself, he stands up and reaches up my legs. I ask Finn if he wants to go up, both as a distraction from the phone and because I have to go to the bathroom. The mere mention of “up” and he scampers toward the stairs, pointing and declaring “up, up.” A quick pause to hug Calvert, who happens to be lounging on the rug in the foyer, and Finn climbs up the stairs in an awkward and precarious attempt to stay on his feet, using the spindles and my hand as leverage.

As we reach the top, I figure Finn will head for his socks, but no, instead he hollers, “brush” and launches into the dark bathroom reaching for Jason’s and my electric toothbrush on the counter. He has a strong interest in brushes, both tooth and hair, probably because they belong to Mama and Papa and are usually kept out of reach. Admonishing myself for indulging this whim rather than saying “no,” we sit on the toilet seat and “play” with the electric tooth brush. First putting on the attachment with the actual brush; then taking the plastic cap on and off, on and off. Finally we delve into the thrill of the vibrations that begin miraculously when he presses the buttons, on and off, on and off, and on. Finn cracks himself up, putting the vibrating brush in his mouth and yanking it back out. This seems to be a game he would be happy to play for quite some time, but I decide the tooth brush is better off back on the counter, otherwise it will surely end up down the stairs.

Frustrated by the mean Mommy’s confiscation of the brush, Finn rushes out of the bathroom to find his next target. Now in Mama and Papa’s room, Finn stops to point up at the light switch and commands “switch.” Again the Mama obliges the baby’s desires and I lift Finn up to let him flip the switch on, and off and on and off. (Too bad Grandma isn’t here to perform this task as it is she who allowed Finn to begin this habit in the first place.)

Once back on the ground, Finn is thrilled to notice that Calvert has attempted to seek refuge in the bedroom, and pauses again to give him a quick hug. Next Finn plops against the bed, hoping to magically climb up. He and I both plunk down in the mess of covers, me thinking we could cuddle, him thinking jumping sounds fun! I start to take off his shoes, but not about to let him jump on the bed. We’ve been reading about what happened to the five little monkeys! With one shoe still on, Finn decides to slither off the bed—luckily he has learned to go feet first, on his belly, and I hold him by the arms to ensure a safe landing.

Now one-shoed he remembers the joy of the socks and runs for his room and the dresser. After just a couple rounds of the socks-down-the-stairs-game, the bathroom door catches his attention and it is time to practice closing the door. Somehow what is normally just a fun few moments of shutting the door, Mommy opening, shutting, opening, turns into a new discovery—slamming the door! Standing a few feet back, Finn realizes he can shove the door and it results in a fabulously loud noise. So, of course, we need to do this more than a few times. The one good thing about this version of playing with the door is that the fingers are well out of harm’s way. A few more slams and I start to imagine the door accidentally locking, with little boy stuck inside the dark bathroom. So this game is over. We close the bathroom door from the hallway and move on for some more fun….Oh, and I still hadn’t gone to the bathroom!

--JAK