Later this month, my son will celebrate his first birthday — and I will
mark my one-year anniversary as a stay-at-home dad. It's been an
incredible year and I've enjoyed the chance to look at the world with a
different perspective.
After 12 months of being a new dad, I have to say that my favorite
discovery is this: babies can get away with just about anything.
It's true. Being small, cute and cuddly gives you a license to
live outside the artificial behavioral constraints of our
society. This allows you to really, truly live. Oh, if
babies could just appreciate this wonderful, wonderful freedom!
Realizing that my son possesses this unique and fleeting gift, I've
begun to take notes on how far he can push it. I absolutely love
to see the results. Here's what I'm talking about:
Let's start with my son, the romantic. Whenever my wife and I
take our son somewhere, he draws a crowd of people — especially
women. They line up to pinch his chubby cheeks and squeeze his
chunky thighs. And they beg to hold him. A naturally
affectionate little guy, he takes advantage of this. Here's his
suave maneuver: after about two seconds of flirty smiles, he loops his
two little arms around the woman's neck and then plunges his face into
her face, making a full lip-lock on her cheek. Generally, a lot
of slobber is involved. The response? Women love
this! They laugh and giggle and call their friends over to "meet
my new boyfriend." If an adult male acted this way, he'd be
slapped silly. As a baby, it makes people adore you even more.
Here's another example. Like all babies, my son is a master of — uh,
how should I say this — "outward expression." If my son burps at
the dinner table, everyone laughs. Each subsequent burp draws
bigger laughs. It's like he's Jerry Seinfeld performing at Radio
City Music Hall. If I were to burp at the table, my wife would
give me a swift kick in the shin. If my son spits up on his
gramma's nice, wool coat, she just chuckles and says, "Oh, that's OK,
accidents happen." If I were to spit up on her coat, my wife
would give me a swift kick in the head. I'm telling you, he can
get away with anything.
In some of these cases, not only is the baby absolved from blame, he's
actually heralded for the action. A month or two ago, my son
started panting with quick, deep breaths. As soon as he
started this odd behavior, my wife and I panicked: oh no, is he
experiencing breathing problems? We were picking up the phone to
call the doctor when we noticed an interesting coincidence. Each
time our son started panting, our dog — a skinny, heavy-breathing mutt
— would meander into the room. Eureka! We had figured it
out. Our son was talking with the dog in dog language. He
had picked up the dialect and accent and sounded exactly like our
panting dog. Immediately, we hailed our son as a genius — some
sort of junior Dr. Doolittle and linguistics prodigy. If I
started panting like a dog, people would think I was delirious.
Some of these behavior allowances have a short-term expiration
date. By the time you're two, for instance, people no longer
think it's funny when you spit up on their coat. Other allowances
last longer.
Happily, I learned that imitating animals is something my son will be
able to get away with for at least a few more years. While
waiting at the pediatrician's office recently, I witnessed an
incredible sight. When the nurse stuck her head into the waiting
room and called for one particular little boy (about three years old)
and his mother to enter the examining room, the kid hopped out of his
chair and started running — on all-fours — around the waiting
room. As he eventually made his way toward the door he whinnied a
few times and proudly proclaimed, "I'm a horsey!" It was quite a
display — one filled with pure exuberance and zest for life.
I clapped for the boy, impressed, and a little jealous, at what he could get away with. Brian Kantz is a stay-at-home dad and writer living in Amherst, New York. He invites your comments and can be reached at
. Visit his website at http://users.adelphia.net/~bkantz.
