Trouble for his parents today, trouble for your daughters’ hearts 17 years from now…

With a baby as active, curious and destructive as Seth, “baby-proofing” has always been a relative concept. The only way we could make things completely safe would be to put him in a featureless room with rubber walls, and then, there would still be the question of which we were trying to keep safe – our precious baby boy, or all of the books, pictures, electronics, toys and other things that he loves to chew and throw and mutilate.

His favorite activity is exploration, and he spends all day walking around and looking for something new or different that he hasn’t seen or tasted yet. His physical skills are still well beyond his capacity to recognize danger, though, so we spend a lot of time following him around, encouraging him when he sees something interesting and lifting him up to get a closer view, and doing our best to keep him our of harm’s way. (He still bonks his head at least once a day, despite our best efforts, but after a few hugs and kisses, he’s back on his way).

There’s really no way to make a house 100% safe for him or for our property without making it unlivable for the adults. That means there’s a number of places where he’s not allowed to go or things he’s not allowed to do, like chewing on books or yanking the Christmas tree over. We’ll correct him with a gentle “no-no” or “uh-uh”, and redirect his energy to something exciting in a safer part of the room.

About 2 months ago, he started to show that he understood the difference between what he was allowed to do and what he wasn’t – he’d stay away from turning off the computer or opening the cabinets he’s not allowed in, and play happily with the things he was allowed to touch. This has made things easier for everyone, and peace and happiness reigned in our kingdom (in relative terms, of course).

However, in the last week, he’s come up with a new game. He’ll intentionally go to the oven or another forbidden area, touch it, and look at us, waiting for a reaction. As soon as we move to redirect him to something else, he starts laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world. We’ve created a rebel! And not only that, but a rebel who openly mocks our authority and laughs in our faces!

The motivation behind this is pretty obvious, too. These little acts of rebellion almost invariably happen when we’re trying to work on something on the computer or watch a bit of TV. He might be the happiest guy in the world, playing by himself quietly, but as soon as he notices that our attention is directed elsewhere, he begins acting up. I want to tell him, “Seth, misbehaving as a plea for attention is such a cliché. Can’t you try something a little more original than that, like learning how to yodel as a plea for attention? Or, at the very least, make your mischief more spectacular. By next week, I want to see you robbing banks or counterfeiting expensive works of art, not something silly like chewing up the spines of your books.”

Of course, as soon as we turn off the TV or computer and get down on the floor to play with him again, he wanders off, content to play by himself and ignore his parents. It feels less like he’s hungry for our attention, especially as he gets that attention 95% of the day, and more like he’s just jealous of us using the remaining 5% of our attention on anything other than him.

As Seth grows up into a little boy with his own personality and likes and dislikes, we’re all adjusting to being part of a family. We’re trying to show him positive attention and interaction as much as possible during the good times, keeping the corrective attention short and to the point, and figuring out times when Mom and Dad can relax without Seth feeling underappreciated. It works fairly well for everyone, and even in the last week, we’ve noticed Seth’s acting up has started to calm down. It should be noted, though, that I’m typing this on the bus on the way to work… there’s no way Seth would give me enough time to type this at home.