Toes as Toys

I blogged a while back about Ryan discovering his hands and feet, but he’s only now starting to realize how much fun he can have with his feet. For one thing, he’s slimmed down (well, sprouted up) enough that he can actually reach them without help. In fact, every time he’s on the changing table now, he sticks his feet up in the air and grabs his toes. (Which is actually quite helpful to whoever’s changing his diaper.) And since he knows he can reach them, he gets frustrated when he’s in his car seat or stroller and the shoulder straps hold him back from reaching them.

But whenever he’s not strapped down, those toes are simply marvelous toys that are always within reach and can’t accidentally be dropped on the floor (or deliberately thrown there). They’re always wiggling right at the end of his feet, waiting patiently to be played with and tickled – by himself or someone else. It’s just as much fun either way!

I am continually impressed at how good he is at amusing himself with whatever happens to be at hand (or at foot). He’ll happily play with his toes, or my fingers, or a rag, or a ray of sunshine dancing across the floor, or his shadow on the wall, or an old remote control. He’ll chew on his toes, my fingers, his shirtsleeve, his pantleg, my sweater, a stuffed animal, or a spoon. He’ll make a drum out of his toes, my fingers, a wooden spoon, a Tupperware bowl, a teething ring, or his own thigh. He’ll stare in fascination at his toes, my fingers, an unlit lamp, a thermostat, a clock, or a speck on the wallpaper.

Oh, those toes – they’re so multipurpose!

Hands and Feet

Ryan has been particularly fascinated by his hands and feet over the past few weeks. It’s funny to watch him in his car seat, studiously examining the fingers on one hand, then looking over at the other hand in amazement as if to say, “Hey, there’s another one!” He holds out both hands and wiggles his fingers, or makes crab-like pinching motions, sometimes even turning them over to carefully study both back and front. And then he moves on to his feet. He often moves his toes in circles like a helicopter rotor – apparently unconsciously, because the movement occasionally catches his eye and he stares at them in wonder as if he’s thinking, “How do they DO that??” Sometimes he even stretches out his hands and tries to reach them. But his latest fascination is not so much with his own hands and feet, but with my hands and feet.

I’m not much of a shoe-wearer at any time, but now that the weather is so warm I walk around barefoot all the time. So when I sit spreadeagled on the floor with Ryan sitting between my legs, he can see my big toes just beyond his own. Or when he’s playing in his bouncy chair and I’m sitting at the table with one leg thrown over my knee, my piggy toes are right in his line of vision. And he finds them fasincating! He reaches for my feet and often tries to pull them into his mouth. He pinches my toes and feels the roughness of the skin at my heels. He watches my feet as I move them across his line of sight, wiggling my toes tantalizingly just out of his reach.

And my hands are just as fascinating. When he’s in a quiet mood, just sitting on my lap, he’ll often suck on his own fingers, then reach for mine and pull them in with his. He’ll grab my hand and swing it back and forth or wiggle my fingers, as if testing to see how they work. He’ll wrap his whole hand around just one of my fingers and pull it to his chest the way he snuggles his rag or his teddy bear. Sometimes I’ll hold my hand up with his in front of it to help him make the connection that they’re the same. I don’t think he’s figured that out yet, but he’s still fasincated by both.

And when you stop and think about it, they really are amazing things, hands and feet. Feet can run for miles, they can dance on pointe, they can climb mountains. They can walk over burning sand or rocky terrain or slippery mud. And what about hands? Hands are sensitive enough to detect a change in temperature of just a few degrees, yet tough enough to pull a hot pan out of the microwave. They’re dextrous enough to thread a needle but strong enough to open a pickle jar. They can be used to create music with a piano, or poetry with a pen, or art with a paintbrush. They can build a house. They can sculpt a statue. They can change a diaper. They can scratch an itch. But best of all, both hands and feet can be used to entertain a baby for hours and hours!

The Uncooperative Octopus

They look so sweet and innocuous, those little hands and feet, don’t they? And if you count them, there really are only two of each. But now that Ryan is learning to control them, they seem to have multiplied. Or maybe it’s just that I’m only using two limbs to try and control his four. But whatever the situation, it’s often like dealing with an uncooperative octopus.

I first discovered that this could be a problem when I had Ryan on the changing table and suddenly I was being whapped in the face with a (clean, fortunately) diaper. Mr. Flaily Arms had discovered the stack of clean diapers that was conveniently within arm’s reach (his as well as mine) and had also discovered that clean diapers make a nice crunchy sound and are easy to clutch by any of their parts. Daddy had apparently discovered this issue before I had because I noticed that the bottle of hand sanitizer had been moved to the far end of the changing table. (Wonder if that was a messy discovery?)

Feet are also an issue on the changing table. Even aside from the difficulty of slipping pantlegs over feet which don’t wish to be encumbered by clothing, we have the difficulty of diaper kicking. Naturally, diaper kicking is much more fun when the diaper is poopy – and there has been poop on my nursery walls to prove it. Fortunately, I am resourceful enough that I’ve managed to create a system of holding Ryan’s legs and backside up in the air with one hand while folding the diaper with its unpleasant contents safely sealed inside with the other hand. But again, Mr. Squirmy makes even that supposedly simple task something of an aerobic exercise.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted to see him exploring with his hands and feet. I love watching him carefully and deliberately scoop up a toy with both hands. I love watching him stretch out his toes to pull his bear toward himself. I love that he’s gaining more and more control over his limbs every day. I just wish that he’d be a bit more of a cooperative octopus sometimes.