So, there’s this movie that you’ve seen if you have kids old enough to see movies last year. If you don’t, this one may be a loss for you. The movie is called Ratatouille and it’s basically about this rat who learns to be a gourmet chef by watching TV. As it later unfolds, he makes his way to Paris and ends up helping the unknowing, illegitimate son of the deceased TV chef restore his restaurant and family name to culinary greatness. He does this by hiding under the man’s hat and controlling him like a puppeteer by pulling his hair in various ways and directions. Rodent-driven hilarity ensues…
No, this entry is not a movie review, it’s about Graeme. Graeme has to be viewed much the way communism was viewed by the US in the 1960’s. You can’t control him, you can only contain him. One surefire way I’ve found to prevent his immediate proximity from becoming a swath of destruction is to pick him up. Way up. He’s gotten heavy and I’ve gotten out of shape, so there’s no holding him on your hip (unless you're his mommy - T). Also, he refuses to grip with his legs, so if you try that you have to support his whole dead weight. Trust me, he’s heavy for 26 pounds.
All that said, I’ve taken to putting him up on my shoulders. He loves it. He loves it when I stand in front of the mirror and he can see himself. He loves it when I jump up and down. He loves it when I do the “bionic spin” (my brother Jeff may remember this from childhood. The bionic spin is that game we’ve all played where you spin around and around in circles until you stop and you are so dizzy you fall down and laugh hysterically at yourself. Admit it, you’ve done it too.) Graeme does not like the dizzy part or the falling, but he hasn’t puzzled out cause and effect yet. The things I’m getting away with right now…
While he loves this game and it prevents me from herniating and him from escaping to go build and detonate a nuclear device (he’s an interesting mix of creative and destructive for a two year old), he doesn’t fully trust that I’ve got a hold on him. Herein lies the tale. Graeme also likes to pull hair. Now, my hair is short, but my son is committed. He buries a hand in either side of my scalp and takes that powerful grip that only a child can have on two fists full of hair and pulls. Sometimes he pulls so hard I have to change direction or react in some other way just like the chef with the rat, thus Dadatouille. This might be one you have to see to really appreciate.
No, this entry is not a movie review, it’s about Graeme. Graeme has to be viewed much the way communism was viewed by the US in the 1960’s. You can’t control him, you can only contain him. One surefire way I’ve found to prevent his immediate proximity from becoming a swath of destruction is to pick him up. Way up. He’s gotten heavy and I’ve gotten out of shape, so there’s no holding him on your hip (unless you're his mommy - T). Also, he refuses to grip with his legs, so if you try that you have to support his whole dead weight. Trust me, he’s heavy for 26 pounds.
All that said, I’ve taken to putting him up on my shoulders. He loves it. He loves it when I stand in front of the mirror and he can see himself. He loves it when I jump up and down. He loves it when I do the “bionic spin” (my brother Jeff may remember this from childhood. The bionic spin is that game we’ve all played where you spin around and around in circles until you stop and you are so dizzy you fall down and laugh hysterically at yourself. Admit it, you’ve done it too.) Graeme does not like the dizzy part or the falling, but he hasn’t puzzled out cause and effect yet. The things I’m getting away with right now…
While he loves this game and it prevents me from herniating and him from escaping to go build and detonate a nuclear device (he’s an interesting mix of creative and destructive for a two year old), he doesn’t fully trust that I’ve got a hold on him. Herein lies the tale. Graeme also likes to pull hair. Now, my hair is short, but my son is committed. He buries a hand in either side of my scalp and takes that powerful grip that only a child can have on two fists full of hair and pulls. Sometimes he pulls so hard I have to change direction or react in some other way just like the chef with the rat, thus Dadatouille. This might be one you have to see to really appreciate.
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