The play area of DOOM!

During the hot summer months the inaccessibility, or un-usability, of playgrounds has made finding play areas for William somewhat of a challenge. Again I talk about the Spotsylvania town center, which should start paying me for using it as advertisement for places to take children. The play are is a small, enclosed space with one exit and a few rounded, squishy items for children to climb over. There are a few downsides to this play place, but today's post will focus on the positives.
William loves the play place. Even with the extremely crowded, rowdy area he finds the spaces to jump and run and get out as much excess energy as possible. His excitement is immediate and explosive. For the first ten minutes of play he cannot walk normally. His walk turns into an arm flapping, jumping, dance that continues until he tires or bumps into something.

Click the Picture for dancing!

After his initial lap of the play area he will then decide which soft yet dense object he should play on. Usually he goes to one of four objects. If he is near the bridge he will go up the bridge and attempt to walk or slide down it, usually with a good thump at the end. His next choice is usually the hollowed out tree with a slide and stairs. He will climb up one of the sides, wait inside for a few minutes, and then go down the slide or stairs, usually the opposite of whichever he went up.  The interesting thing about this is it doesn't really matter. The material the tree is made out of won't allow for sliding, and William either thumps down the stairs or he thumps down the slide. Next on the list is the horse and carriage, the object that absolutely terrifies my girlfriend, fearing that if William mounts the horse he will fall and hurt himself. He never has, and I am sure never will, but it is still something that he struggles to climb, and gravity is a harsh mistress. The fourth and final object is the small ducks in the pond that are just big enough for him to sit on and pretend to ride just like the horse.

I have sped through his playtime to talk about the meat of the play area, the object of attention William will always pay attention too 100% of the time. Outside of the play area, about 30 feet from the walls, is a toy helicopter kiosk. During the owners displays they make a loud whirring sound that draws the attention of William, and only William. When this sound reaches his ears he immediately climbs atop the highest thing he can find and points at it, like he is that random rebel soldier in Star Wars on Yavin IV that saw the Falcon coming in. 

This causes the main problem with the play area, the one exit. Upon seeing the helicopter William will get down, begin to walk around like everything is cool, and then book it straight for the opening. At first I equated this to a prisoner making a break for it so that he could escape from the wardens and live free.

This was until he ran for the helicopters, and then I realized it was less a prisoner making a break for it, but Arnold Schwarzenneger fleeing from the predator.

The weight of William on my shoulders

This past Saturday my girlfriend had an early morning job interview that lasted around 3 hours, as group interviews tend to go I imagine. While she was there William and I found ourselves in the unfortunate position of being awake at 8:30 AM on a Saturday. With rather slim choices of where to go I made the most obvious choice, the mall. I've mentioned the mall before, but I will recap as well as add a few details I may have glossed over last time.

The "Town Center", the formal name of the area mall, is a figure eight with a children's play area on one loop and the food court on the other with the normal mall stores in between. As a college student I typically ignore the stores, as any college student knows after gas and food (and gas) there is no money left for other things (because of gas). This means, along with every other student in the area, we wander the eight in an infinite loop. It's almost as if the shape of the mall was an infinity symbol, but that would be silly.

William and I walked for a little while, his right hand in my hand, his left hand pointing every which way as things caught his attention. Needless to say he was pointing at pretty much everything that moved, as well as everything that didn't move. Unlike his arms, his legs eventually got tired and beckoned to be carried. Instead of the typical way of baby on the hips I decided that the brick of baby that is William would be easier to carry upon my shoulders. I was now William's robot warrior, under his able command. Trusting upon the imagination of a one and a half year old did not lead to be as straightforward as I imagined. His inability to really understand the intricacies of a giant robot and the dire straits that we were in as the floor became lava, as well as being unable to speak, made his captains position more of a figurehead than a real commander. I would feign navigation issues as well as stabilization problems, jumping and spinning and running around the mall with a giggling baby on my head.

After I was sweating and sore, with a little hair missing from where his fingers had clung tight, an idea sprung to my mind. If I give William a sign saying www.timeforhugs.com and walk around the mall in much the same way I could draw awareness to this very blog as well as my comic. William and I would advertise the fun I have watching William while I watched William! Williamception! or something like that. My plan, although genius, backfired slightly when my hastily made cardboard sign became a weapon in the tiny warriors hands. Constant smacks on my head as well as lowering it to just the point where I could not see caused giggles and shouts to erupt from the tiny being upon my shoulders.

In honor of his great work advertising we went to Wendy's where we shared a frosty, as well as a new little toy for him to throw and fuss about when it didn't land where he could reach it.

William in the Library

It may go against logical thinking, but the public library is a convenient and effective place to entertain and watch a baby. When the popular image of a library comes to my mind I see a place that enforces a quiet atmosphere, as well as a lack of really anything for a kid to do who does not yet realize the joy of sitting down and listening to, or reading, a book. It wasn't until we my girlfriend and I started to go to a few different libraries that I began to see that many of them had children's areas that gave the kids a slightly away area to play, as long as they didn't play too loudly. 

It is at one of these libraries that William, my girlfriend, and I spend a lot of time. The kids area is a separate room with puppets, blocks, books, a felt board a wooden play area, and a cabinet with a giant bear on top of it. The hardest part of the room entails the bear and William's inability to pass by it without staring at it for a few minutes, reaching for it, then leaving the room to go explore the rest of the library. I have my suspicions that this bear is telling him to flee the kids room, lest William become trapped, just as the bear himself had. Or maybe he is just leaving to find a ladder so he can reach the bear.

Of the things in the room there are two aforementioned activities that will interest him enough that the constant calling of the bear is overcome by the fun of the toys. The first is the tray filled with blocks. Although William does not yet have the fine motor skills required to put the blocks on top of each other, he has realized he can push them around the room and say "choo-choo" a few times and the block becomes a train. It's rather entertaining to watch, as it's not only with blocks that he does this, but with many other objects that bear no immediate resemblance to a train at all. 

The other object of interest is the puppets. Although there are many puppets within the purple bucket in the rooms corner William finds one to be the most interesting puppet in the world. A small caterpillar with a place for a hand underneath him. While the monkey and elephant garner a few laughs from him, it is this caterpillar that when placed upon my hand will drive him into a laughing fit, especially as I make it scurry back and forward across the ground in front of him, or even tickle him with it. 

It is in public places like these that William has begun to learn how to interact with other children, and where I have learned I am a very defensive parent. I am constantly watching William or playing with him, and when he starts to throw blocks or run out of the room I will go over to him, tell him to stop, that he knows better, and depending on the offense a swat on the butt. He will normally realize that what he did was wrong and attempt to do something else. When I don't catch his act and someone else has to tell me about it I get extremely defensive. For the same thing I would discipline him for if I caught him, the second someone else tells me what he has done I get into a mode where every one of my words will be to defend his actions no matter what he has done. 

The library has been a great place for William so far, and will continue to be a place for my girlfriend, William and me to hang out in the hot summer days. 

Babies vs Mascots

It was perhaps an inevitable occurrence that at some point in time William, my girlfriend and I would find ourselves at a corporate sponsored story time. Nothing in life is free, and I'll gladly put up with a commercial or a chik-fil-a bias to things like William's story time than spend cash doing something else.

This story is not about the story time however, as William didn't even make it past the first 10 pages of the first book. No. This story is about William and his first experience with animals that walk around like man, that try to give him high fives and hugs and walk around with logos on their chests. This story is about William, and his first experience with the noble job of mascot.

His mom saw it first, the upper body of a red shirted cow making its way around the malls walled play area. After a few pokes she convinced me to turn around and she pointed towards the majestic creature that was giving all of the children big, bovine hugs. I am not sure this is the best idea, as teaching your kids to hug cows cannot possibly be the best lesson for them to learn should they ever find themselves in that situation.

My girlfriend and I both agreed that the cuteness factor of William hugging a giant cow would counteract any negative effects it may do to his one year old psyche so I picked him up and we made our way to the hugging herbivore. We stood near the wall and I placed him on the ground, his legs automatically backpedalling until he was pressed up against my shins. He pushed against me, terrified of this animal that walked like a man. I walked him forward, until we stood right in front of the unnatural creature. With his hand out for a high five William took a step forward, in the direction of his mommy, fleeing from this situation he now found himself in.

William and I sat down in anticipation for story time on the blue mats they had placed so that children need not sit on the floor. Next to us sat the cow, as in right next to us. William stared at it for over five minutes, his gaze fixed squarely on this affront to his world view. It was around the sixth minute where he accepted that the cow was not going to eat him and that he could touch it. After touching it for a few minutes he began to walk towards a newcomer. A bee from the local radio station who also sponsored the event had shown up and was standing near the wall where my girlfriend was. Towards this bee he was much friendlier. High fives and smiles abounded, but still he refused to hug the creature.

It was then, after a few more minutes of figuring out exactly what these creatures were, that he decided to tell the public of his findings. Standing in front of the cow, and in front of all the children (While an employee was reading the stories) he began to spout off a rambling sentence of gibberish that could only be about these animals that dared think they could act like people, and no matter how much clothing they wore they could never be best friends with humans. It was at this time we decided he was too much of a distraction to the other kids and took him away to get some lunch, where the cow and bee would no longer cause him such fits of confusion.

William the Marine

I have mentioned before the lack of anywhere in the area to take a baby that doesn't require out of pocket expense. Since then I have found an interesting fact, many of the museums in the D.C area are free to enter. A large, air conditioned area where all of the breakable stuff is behind unbreakable glass, it's a parents dream. William, leashed to his Elmo harness, is free to go anywhere he wants, at whatever speed he wants, as long as it's within a 4 foot radius of yours truly. So far most museums don't elicit any real response from him, his gaze drawn to the moving stairs that magically transport him rather than the exhibits themselves.

This was not the case when my girlfriend, William and I went to the Marine Corps Museum in Quantico. Although at first it did not garner any attention from him, his eyes more interested in the inside of his eyelids, as he had fallen asleep in the car ride over, which is to say, he fell asleep after fussing 25 minutes and then 5 minutes before we got there he placed his bucked upon his head and rightly conked out.

When he finally did wake up he was, understandably, confused as to his current location. He woke up while we were inside a sort of tracked transport and were moving on to an exhibit with the sound of gunfire and shouting. I am pretty sure at this point he felt as if we had deployed him without his prior knowledge, and that we had not given him the proper equipment to survive in a battlefield. For the rest of the museum exhibits he was quiet, aptly awestruck at the huge machines, shouting voices and crowded hallways as a baby should be. 

It was not until we entered the entrance of the museum again (as after the exhibits you enter back into a large open area that serves as the museums entrance) he began to point and shout. Although the ground had many amazing tanks and replicas of battle scenes his finger pointed upwards to the three aircraft that hung above our heads. Cries of "koo goo" were all we heard as we got on the elevator to go to the second floor. When we entered he began to move about and fuss in his stroller, upset that the planes were no longer able to continue what must have been a fascinating conversation with his imagination. While we walked around the upstairs (Which circles the main room and every 100 feet or so has an opening in the wall where you can see the entrance again) it was like a game of peek-a-boo. Every time he'd see the planes he'd point and laugh, and when they disappeared behind a wall he'd fuss about. 

After we had taken in the entire museum we decided to check out the gift shop for something small to keep William occupied the rest of the day. Inside, my girlfriend found a plaque of her favorite marine corps saying and a helmet for little man and we exited the museum, William's happy smile the only thing seen under the too big helmet. For the rest of the day as he walked about he held the helmet in both hands close to his chest, giving off the impression that he was no a respectful, humble, marine rather than a baby with a helmet that was too heavy for one hand.