Jumper seat

Oscar has learned a few new tricks and acquired a couple new toys in recent weeks. He's discovered his feet, which he now plays with -- sometimes even grabbing both at once. He's also discovered the cats, and seems surprised when they don't smile back at him, like all the other faces do.

For a few weeks there, he was really into grabbing hold of fingers -- his, someone else's, he's not a finger snob -- and putting them in his mouth. Then pushing them away. Then putting them in his mouth again, and on and on, ad infinitum. Endlessly fascinating. Sometimes he'd get so worked up with it we worried about him bruising his gums. It was as if he was figuring out spatial relationships -- and opposable thumbs, and taste, all at once. But the novelty seems to have worn off that one.


We got him a colorful plastic mirror which folds out so you can stand it up. It's an ideal distraction for "tummy time," which he's otherwise not that keen on (because you're no longer supposed to let babies sleep on their stomachs for fear of SIDS, tummy time is mandatory for building arm strength).

But his new favorite thing is his jumper seat -- one of those suspension doo-hickeys that you mount from a door frame (the American Academy of Pediatrics is down on them, but Penelope Leach approves wholeheartedly, so whatever, white coats). He just loves it. Of course he does -- he's standing up (well, not quite, since his feet don't come all the way to the floor, but almost), he can spin around or move vertically at his own volition. All that has to be pretty liberating when you can't quite sit up without support.


The only downside is that he's gotten so carried away with it, he now treats us as jumper seats, and kicks his legs expecting to be manually "bounced" whenever you're holding him up! He can happily spend a half hour or more in the harness before he tires out. And that, of course, is a nice side benefit -- it really runs down his batteries, so if he's hyper and needs to burn off some energy, in he goes! The dour old sticks-in-the-mud at the APA tut-tut using them to occupy your kid, but I figure it beats the hell outta America's babysitter -- television (not for nothing do we call it the boob tube, eh?) -- and he gets so much joy out of it.