Bubbles
My mom taught Zach all about bubbles when he was a wee lad of about 4 months. She said she probably shouldn't do this (after all, it's not very ladylike), but she introduced him to - yes - spit bubbles.Fast forward 5 months.
Every time I say the word "bubbles" now, Zach stops whatever he's doing, stares at my mouth, forms Cheerio lips, and says "oh". And he will stare and stare and stare until a bubble comes out of my mouth.
Well, normally, I only do bubbles with gum, which Zach finds intriguing. But, alas, yesterday, I found myself without gum, and I found myself in need of trying something new to entertain Zach.
So, yes, I resorted to the Spit Bubble (me hangs my ladylike head in shame).
BOY did he laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And giggle. And giggle. And laugh. And laugh. Belly laughs galore - as if he had a million of them stored up for the winter and was letting half a million loose.
The more I blew, the harder he laughed. And the harder he tried to "catch" one on my lips.
After about 20 minutes of this (I think my spit supply actually ran dry), I stopped, much to his dismay. He pulled himself up to face level (I was sitting, of course) by grabbing my shirt in both hands, formed the Cheerio mouth, and gave an insistant "OH!"
"Mommy has no spit left, Sir Zachary. The supply has run dry. It only refills overnight."
"OH!"
"Mommy's lips are dry, Prince Zacharoo. If I blow any more spit bubbles, those lips will fall off and I won't be able to blow any tomorrow."
"OH! OH!"
"Um... bubbles can only be blown midday - and it's 20 minutes past midday."
"OH! OH! OH!"
His face got closer to mine...his grip tightened on my shoulders...his tiny fingers probed my mouth, in search of bubbles.
So I succumbed and started the Bubble Factory again. Giggle. Giggle. Belly Laugh.
Fast forward to night time (well, 2am).
Zach was having one his nights whereby he half-awakens...sits up in his crib...and cries out until Dale or I pick him up.
So I laid Zach on the big bed with me, with hopes that he'd drift off to dreamland again, but he still fussed. So I whisper, "Zacheeeee....BUBBLES!"
Suddenly, his eyes open wide, he stares at my mouth, and smiles. So here I was... at 2am....blowing more spit bubbles (quite the visual, eh).
Regardless, I must say...this technique helped during his 9 month wellcheck as well because at one point, he would not let the nice pediatrician listen to his heart. He kept moving his arms and trying to grab the stethoscope. So I gave the "Bubbles" war cry - and sure enough - he was drawn to my lips the way a sailor is drawn to a mermaid's song.
Who needs toys!
posted by Joanne @ 1:34 PM
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