Mom, dad and Auntie D took Xander to Six Flags New England this past weekend. The park would only be open for a couple more weeks, and mom and dad (mainly dad) wanted to give Xander his first amusement park experience.
Upon arriving in scenic Agawam, Mass., the group headed over to the tram. We ended up on the sky-blue painted Skittles tram. Xander, who likes trains and most other moving vehicles, was a big fan of the tram. But it is a short ride - so short that the group wondered aloud why they had bothered taking it (note: this didn't stop them from taking it on the way back).
Once inside, the group made off for Kidzopolis. The first stop was ZoomJets - the little planes in a circle that go up and down. Xander was seemingly unimpressed. He was also seemingly unimpressed on Krazy Kars (that one actually did suck, even for a kids ride) and Zinger Swings. It wasn't until the western-themed ferris wheel, which was called Wagon Wheels or something like that, that smiles surfaced.
This shouldn't have come as a surprise. One of the effects of Xander observing everything around him is that he sort of detaches when he has an opportunity to just look around. This comes into play mainly on the swings. Knowing that he's not responsible for his own movement, he takes the time to look around at cars, other kids or whatever is in the area. One often doesn't know that Xander is enjoying himself until the person pushing him lets Xan come to a gentle stop, only to find Xander kicking that he wants to swing some more.
Back to Wagon Wheels, when Xan got to the top - which took awhile since each rider had to be loaded on one at a time - he broke out in smiles, and it was a smile-fest from there on out. He enjoyed the pirate-themed playground, and the Route 66 car driving course with mom, and the Ship's Ahoy! kiddie dragon-boat ride. Once he figured out where everything and everyone was, he had a much better time.
But his favorite part of all? Watching the big roller coasters. Dad and AD went on the Bizarro Superman and Mind Eraser coasters, and during each mom and Xan hung out near the exit and watched the coasters zoom by overhead. Each time, Xan would screech with delight and point at the coasters. He's still a long ways away from being tall enough to ride them himself, but he will likely be ready long before that.
When you add up the price of admission, plus food and games, amusement parks are rarely cheap, but giving Xander his first experience at one proved worth the price of admission and then some.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Give Me Freedom Or Give Me Chex
The positives to Xander learning to walk far, far outweigh the negatives. But one potential negative is the fact that he has learned that can be free. If Xander does not want to ‘come here,’ he no longer has to, because now he can get to wherever he wants on his own. Mom and dad are rapidly learning that there is one way and one way only to conclusively corral Xander on a consistent basis: Chex.
Originally, dad only gave Xander Chex because he and Xan had finished the Cheerios, and it was another couple of days ‘til pay day. But the impact was immediate -- he loved them. Corn Chex are his favorites, but he also likes Wheat Chex and never turns up his nose at Rice Chex either. Or more appropriately, he never gives them the Heisman treatment. If you come to Xander with a food or beverage item that is not on his menu, you are most definitely getting the stiff arm treatment. In recent weeks, he’s added a Dee Brown to the move -- he throws out the stiff arm (with a little push in it) with the left arm, while covering his mouth and face with the right arm. Where mom and dad used to be able to drive hard to the hoop to get food he didn’t want on to his lips -- and then from there hope he swallowed it and liked it -- now it’s nigh impossible. If he doesn’t want it, you have no chance.
This goes for walking outdoors as well. It’s probably dad’s fault. In front of mom and dad’s new apartment is a big hill with a fence on top. When you exit the abode, you have two choices to get to your car -- walk up the stairs that detour around the side of the hill, or just charge up the hill and pommel horse the fence. Dad, ever the impatient, too frequently charges straight up the hill, Xander in one arm, diaper bag in the other. So now, whenever Xander gets outside, the first thing he wants to do is try to walk up the hill. It would be cute if it wasn’t so potentially dangerous.
Xander’s other dangerous habit is that he doesn’t believe in holding adults’ hands when he is walking on the sidewalk. You might get him to hold your hand for a few yards, but soon enough, there will be a noise or movement, and suddenly holding your hand is no longer a priority. The priority is looking at that car, looking at that truck, looking at that six-year old who just went careening across the playground at breakneck speed. Suddenly the hand that was holding yours is violently yanked away as he assumes his “watcher” position, feet shoulder width apart, hands at his sides, mouth slightly open, eyes focused. Once the moment, or vehicle, passes, he’ll go back to walking towards the intended destination, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll want to hold your hand. This sort of behavior earns Xander a lot of shoulder rides.
On the sidewalk of the apartment complex, the combination of the desire for freedom and the natural inclination to shift to the “watcher” position is mostly cute, and almost completely harmless, but in large crowds it can be problematic. For example, dad and a friend recently took Xander to his first Pawtucket Red Sox game. When he was a tyke that couldn’t move around, Xan sat quietly on dad’s lap at the Rockies’ game, but now that he has freedom, nothing of the sort is going on. Upon reaching the concourse, dad plopped Xander down and went about the process of trying to walk to our seats. But even though we were early, there were still hundreds of people to look at. Did it help that the 40-year old woman who can be conservatively described as voluminous was trying to carry on a conversation with him? No, probably not. But there were legions of people to look at, and given his druthers, Xander would have just planted himself on that concourse and looked at every single one of them.
Conversely, while there were plenty of people and things to look at from the seats, they were limiting. Sit in one place for three hours? Dad, surely you jest. Xander was temporarily sated by the spread of veggie sticks, Triscuits and Chex, but once the supply was dry, Xan wanted to fly. And one advantage of being a little guy is that you fit everywhere -- trying to shimmy down the backs of the chairs to the row in front of him became a prominent strategy for Agent X. After the third inning, dad and his friend had seen enough.
Xander is big on exploring, and that is the main way he learns about the environment around him, and also about himself. But unfortunately, there are times when he needs to be tended to, and during those situations, attention needs to be heightened, because as freedom increases, cooperation decreases. Give him freedom, or give him Chex.
Originally, dad only gave Xander Chex because he and Xan had finished the Cheerios, and it was another couple of days ‘til pay day. But the impact was immediate -- he loved them. Corn Chex are his favorites, but he also likes Wheat Chex and never turns up his nose at Rice Chex either. Or more appropriately, he never gives them the Heisman treatment. If you come to Xander with a food or beverage item that is not on his menu, you are most definitely getting the stiff arm treatment. In recent weeks, he’s added a Dee Brown to the move -- he throws out the stiff arm (with a little push in it) with the left arm, while covering his mouth and face with the right arm. Where mom and dad used to be able to drive hard to the hoop to get food he didn’t want on to his lips -- and then from there hope he swallowed it and liked it -- now it’s nigh impossible. If he doesn’t want it, you have no chance.
This goes for walking outdoors as well. It’s probably dad’s fault. In front of mom and dad’s new apartment is a big hill with a fence on top. When you exit the abode, you have two choices to get to your car -- walk up the stairs that detour around the side of the hill, or just charge up the hill and pommel horse the fence. Dad, ever the impatient, too frequently charges straight up the hill, Xander in one arm, diaper bag in the other. So now, whenever Xander gets outside, the first thing he wants to do is try to walk up the hill. It would be cute if it wasn’t so potentially dangerous.
Xander’s other dangerous habit is that he doesn’t believe in holding adults’ hands when he is walking on the sidewalk. You might get him to hold your hand for a few yards, but soon enough, there will be a noise or movement, and suddenly holding your hand is no longer a priority. The priority is looking at that car, looking at that truck, looking at that six-year old who just went careening across the playground at breakneck speed. Suddenly the hand that was holding yours is violently yanked away as he assumes his “watcher” position, feet shoulder width apart, hands at his sides, mouth slightly open, eyes focused. Once the moment, or vehicle, passes, he’ll go back to walking towards the intended destination, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll want to hold your hand. This sort of behavior earns Xander a lot of shoulder rides.
On the sidewalk of the apartment complex, the combination of the desire for freedom and the natural inclination to shift to the “watcher” position is mostly cute, and almost completely harmless, but in large crowds it can be problematic. For example, dad and a friend recently took Xander to his first Pawtucket Red Sox game. When he was a tyke that couldn’t move around, Xan sat quietly on dad’s lap at the Rockies’ game, but now that he has freedom, nothing of the sort is going on. Upon reaching the concourse, dad plopped Xander down and went about the process of trying to walk to our seats. But even though we were early, there were still hundreds of people to look at. Did it help that the 40-year old woman who can be conservatively described as voluminous was trying to carry on a conversation with him? No, probably not. But there were legions of people to look at, and given his druthers, Xander would have just planted himself on that concourse and looked at every single one of them.
Conversely, while there were plenty of people and things to look at from the seats, they were limiting. Sit in one place for three hours? Dad, surely you jest. Xander was temporarily sated by the spread of veggie sticks, Triscuits and Chex, but once the supply was dry, Xan wanted to fly. And one advantage of being a little guy is that you fit everywhere -- trying to shimmy down the backs of the chairs to the row in front of him became a prominent strategy for Agent X. After the third inning, dad and his friend had seen enough.
Xander is big on exploring, and that is the main way he learns about the environment around him, and also about himself. But unfortunately, there are times when he needs to be tended to, and during those situations, attention needs to be heightened, because as freedom increases, cooperation decreases. Give him freedom, or give him Chex.
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