Babies vs Technology

Evolet takes pictures!

She adores staring and giggling at herself on my iPad. Fun fun fun! Who is that happy little lady smiling at her?! She tries to see where she is behind the iPad. No one is there! Wow! Then she gets a bit perplexed. She gets serious. Eyes the iPad suspiciously. And then becomes a photographer.

Just look at that composition! The lighting! And dare I say meaning?–the half shot of me, is that symbolic that she is half of me?! As I begin my internal motherly ‘my child is a wonder!’ dialogue, she clips me short with her final contemplative snap:

This reminds me that genius is in the process, not the product! So I am safe in my child wonder thoughts. Or maybe it was an intentional artsy forehead thing.

I am, though, less excited about this technological camera mastery. I demurely recall our list of technological gadgets now in heaven:
-my husband’s macbook pro laptop cord (death by saliva)
-my Samsung Galaxy phone (death by toilet)
-my husband’s Samsung Galaxy phone (death by saliva)
-my iPod (death by saliva)
-our Nokia rental phone (while waiting for new Samsung Galaxy) speaker/sound (death by saliva)

Yes, I see the pattern, too. She’s a quick chick! She grabs things as I cruise around the house with her in the trusty sling. After she’s had her wicked way with her snatched goodies, she stores them for safekeeping on her lap in the sling. I find these items when I lift her out to give her a wee. One time she had hoarded a cork, a glass, a wooden spoon, a pencil, a cat toy, and a small bag of shredded coconut.

She seems determined to strategically coat the house and all it’s contents in drool. She appears undaunted by the magnitude of her task. One calculated object at a time. Last night it was the fourth carpeted stair up from the bottom. This morning it was my gym shoe shoelace.

She exudes this talent in public, too. Just last week a jar of jam crashed on the cement when I lifted her out in the parking lot at the supermarket. Receipts are tasty, too. And the car window…and steering wheel. And most recently, the gearshift.

Oh, and that technology thing again. I rescued my friend Belinda’s door locking thingie twice from Evolet’s malevolent secretions. The TV remote control, however, was not so lucky. Sigh.


Slings Rock 209


Ok, so reason 209 out of 1000 of why slings seriously rock.

My dear friend (and midwife!) Belinda and I took our dogs Lola and Skyla for an evening bonanza trek to the park. They loved it. We loved it. The evening air was mild and secret and still. Lovely. Little if any traffic, people here and there dotted about, enjoying the dusky lull. We took our time and just chatted away like schoolgirls. Only not so giggley. Most of the time.

We left about 8.30p and were gone about an hour. Evolet, as usual, played perfect-passive experience-hungry observing baby, not making a sound. In fact, it was a while before I realised she had zonked out completely! She is always so peaceful and soothingly alert that I often forget she is even there.

Yes, it is gorgeous how sweetly asleep she is. And wonderful that it is less than any effort at all to tenderly kiss her darling head. And that she feels profoundly safe and secure, nestled against my warm body. And that the movement of me helps her brain develop. And that I feel safe and secure knowing exactly where she is. And that our bodies can align and subtly tune-in with one another.

Those are all reasons 123, 576, 430, 100, 102, and 877 out of the 1000.

Reason 209 is this: Slings do not disturb the quiet stillness of an earthy, fresh, and dense summer evening.

Treadmill Baby


Evolet discovered the lure of the treadmill when she began creeping. Our dog Skyla uses the treadmill every day for an hour, and Evers goes crazy with delight when she hears the beeps as I turn it on and increase the speed. She hangs out in front, standing, feeling the bump of the moving belt and getting occasional kisses on the forehead from Skyla. She literally squeals with joy.

Sometimes she sits by the side of it and holds various objects against the moving belt so she can hear the sounds they make. Invariably, she lets them go to find a new object, and then Skyla has to do some fancy footwork to avoid them. I find these things at the bottom of the treadmill. Lately I found: 3 screwdrivers, a packet of pear crisps, a wooden coaster, a fork, Skyla’s dog leash…and collar, and a bib. I bet the bib was the least exciting for her.

Any time she is out of my sling, she makes an excited beeline for the treadmill. While doing dishes in the kitchen I can often hear her babbling away to herself, sitting on the treadmill. She hangs there for hours. It’s like her ‘local.’ Sometimes she climbs up with toys and sometimes she just stands in the front and touches as high as she can while sucking on the metal bars. Yummy! Though, I wish I could say that was the worst thing she mouths.

My husband and I are thrilled she is showing such an early interest in exercise!

Also, check out that bib! Ha!

Q: What funny obsessions did your wee ones have as babies?