Nathan and His Antenna Appendages

Unhappy NathanNathan wouldn’t stop yanking my hair, so I had to sit him down. He was unhappy about it.

Yanking off his socksSo he decided to yank off his socks instead

So I mentioned the other day that Nathan’s arms and legs are like four antennas, constantly waving around and touching his surroundings. Well, I’ve noticed that within the past couple of days, his need to touch everything has multiplied tenfold.

I walk by the curtains, he reaches out and grabs them, holding them in his tightly clenched fist.

I stand by the fridge, he swipes at the magnets.

I yawn too big and he inserts HIS ENTIRE HAND in my mouth.

I turn my head and he sticks his finger in my ear.

I find it slightly irritating when he’s in my lap and, with lightening speed, he sticks his finger in my nose. It makes me sneeze, and as I’ve mentioned before, I don’t sneeze just once. Or twice. Or even three times. I sneeze MULTIPLE TIMES IN A ROW. Me, my dad, and my brother are the only ones I know who have this ability.

It’s like one sneeze isn’t good enough. No, our noses have this obtuse need to ensure that EVERY LAST BIT OF FOREIGN OBJECT is expelled permanently and irrefutably from our nasal passages.

When I laugh, Nathan takes his little hands out of his mouth, slobber dripping from his fingertips, and rubs my teeth.

When I walk through a door, he lurches to the side and grabs the wall.

When I smile at him, he reaches out and pinches my cheeks.

And GOD HELP ME if I wear my hair down. Nathan loves to wrap his wet little hands around in it and yank. And I don’t mean he grabs a large section of hair and yanks, leaving me with only a sore scalp. No, Nathan grabs only three or four strands at a time and PULLS THEM OUT, leaving me with a sore scalp and rapidly-growing bald spots.

Sometimes he’ll eat those lone strands of yanked-out hair.

I lay him down for his nap and he’ll lay on his back, waving his little antennas in the air, searching for something, anything, to grasp. Sometimes he’ll flex his fingers and toes while staring at them quizzically. Other times his appendages come into contact with an object… then they’ll roam all over said object, exploring and learning.

I don’t mind. I could seriously live without the missing patches of hair, but that’s the price you pay for having a very curious little one. I enjoy watching him learn and giving him new toys to discover.

He won’t stay this age forever.


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