What a Helper!


Over the past few weeks, Robbie has started trying to be more involved in what Justin and I do. Some moments, it’s absolutely incredible to watch. Others, I long for the stationary baby who napped in my arms. OK. Let’s be honest. I always long for a baby to nap in my arms. Unfortunately, Robbie wants nothing to do with cuddling or sleeping near anyone else.

Lately, Robbie has taken to putting his things away at night, which I’m really enjoying. He takes his toys that he’s thrown out of his Pack ‘n Play and throws them, one by one, back in at night. Tonight, he played in the kitchen while I put away groceries, unloading the contents of the drawer under the oven. He pulled out the cookie sheet and the four cake pans, one by one, methodically putting them on the floor. And then he reloaded the drawer, making sure to include his snacks that were pulled from the baker’s rack in the kitchen. Robbie then pulled everything out, taking the time to bang the pans together before restacking them in the drawer.

The other way Robbie really enjoys helping is at the grocery store, which I discovered this afternoon. We have a new method for shopping now, which is much more fun than when I used to go on my own. Now, I pull an item from the shelf and hand it to Robbie. He then apprises the situation and finds the perfect place in the cart for it. Maybe he doesn’t find the perfect place, but he does chuck it nicely into the cart. The only problem was that he got bored after thirty minutes and started pulling items from the cart and throwing them onto the ground. He also ate his way through the lid of a yogurt, causing potential disaster for the unsuspecting bagger. Guess who got an open yogurt for dinner tonight?

While I’ve mostly enjoyed Robbie being more involved, it does have it’s pitfalls. Take sleeping for example. Robbie is very concerned now that he will be missing something fabulous when we put him to bed. Bedtime is full of tears for ten or fifteen minutes, while Justin and I lie low and pretend to be doing boring things that couldn’t possibly interest a one-year-old. We don’t really have to pretend. If only Robbie knew that we were just sitting around waiting for it to be late enough to go to bed. The same problem happens in the morning, particularly if I get up at 5:30 to go to the bathroom. It’s as if there is a hair trigger rigged to his bed and he knows when I step foot out of my room. In an instant, he is up at his post, crying.

So, as much as I love playing with Robbie during the day, I wish he’d go back to his sleep-until-6:30 ways. In fact, that was part of our prayers tonight…


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