Here Comes Trouble

Isaac has a new nickname: Captain Calamity.

He hasn’t actually had anything calamitous happen to him—yet. But the kid seems to be courting trouble of the it’s-going-to-hurt variety. This week alone, I’ve managed to rescue him from several close calls, bailing him out of tight squeezes around the house.

Just a week shy of 11 months old, Isaac still isn’t crawling yet, even if he manages to get around using some involving hopping around on his bottom. So I foolishly thought, I could leave him alone upstairs in his bedroom, playing with toys for a few seconds, while I ran downstairs for something.

In the amount of time it took me to run down, grab something and run back up, Ike had managed to tip over his humidifier (which was off, but plugged in), spilling water everywhere and risking electrocution. The moment I walked in to see him sitting in a puddle of water, he was also trying to pull himself up using a toy that isn’t built for that. I then saw him tip over backward, pinning himself under a hunk of Fisher Price musical plastic.

Later that same evening in the same room, he tried to pull a floor lamp over by yanking on its cord, and in the same breath he attempted to gnaw on the cord. Did I mention that this light was plugged in and on? Another nick-of-time save by yours truly.

The next morning, during the pre-work, pre-daycare rush, I turned around to see him carefully sweeping a dog-hair dust bunny tumbleweed into a neat pile with his hands, and I’m sure it was heading straight for his mouth. I took it from him, only to hear a gagging sound coming from his direction moments later. That time, he was trying to eat the cord on his red fleece pants, while he was wearing said pants.

And later that night, I saw him splash so hard he flipped and briefly slipped under the water in the bathtub. A few minutes later, he again tried to stand up, but thankfully he heeded my warning and emphatically shook his head no as the bath went on.

Did I mention that he was fine after each of these incidents and almost seemed to be looking for more action? I’m starting to wonder if maybe the stereotypes about boys versus girls may have kernels of truth to them. Isaac is our second child, and though there is definitely a feeling of been there, done that with him, he’s not a carbon copy of his sister, even if they look a lot alike. I don’t think Lucy ever tried to lift toys that were twice her size. She didn’t whack her toys against the wall or the floor the way he does. When he starts to gag on a piece of finger food, he chases it with another fistful of his snack, while Lucy would have been more pragmatic about moving onto the next mouthful.

I guess the name of the game is vigilance, which is a given with a baby anyway, coupled with a sense of humor and an eagerness to celebrate each child’s differences.