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Holler Back Boy

My mother is a first class “tuner-outer”.  She can literally sit in a room with three different conversations, plates clattering, the phone ringing and sirens going off in the street; completely oblivious.  I admire this quality and I used to think that I was a pretty good “tuner outer” too.  But I guess it’s different trying to tune out your own offspring.

Holler Back

Ike has become a very big fan of yelling.  Or screaming.  Or hollering.  Or just generally making annoying noises.  In his highchair, at dinner time, he screams and hollers indignately, but then when I ask him if he’s “all done”, he smiles and stuffs more food in his mouth.  In his carseat, on the way to church, he screams and shakes his head, and I ask him “what’s wrong baby? are you tired of being in the car?” he smiles and claps.

It would seem quite clear to me that he is literally screaming for attention.  Because once he has it, then everything is fine again.

The same goes for when he falls, he looks up, and we don’t panic or make a big deal, but he screams no matter what.  Even if he falls on his heavily diapered butt.  He will cry until someone comes up to coddle him, as soon as they do, he is completely fine and on his merry way.

This little guy is taking me and all of us for a ride.



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