When August was born, I made myself frantic trying to pack his newborn days with exciting activities. Playmats! Books! Songs! Pictures!

But then, a wise friend pointed out that even a nappy change constitutes an activity for a two-week-old. And so I started lingering for half-hour stretches at the changing table. Dispensing vitamins in the dropper counted as entertainment too. And of course there was the matter of getting dressed which could take an entire day. While a pediatrician visit could keep us in conversation for an entire week.

Five months on, these everyday activities tick along more swiftly. We can toss on an outfit in two-and-a-half minutes, suck down vitamins like Coca-Cola up a straw and do a nappy change one-handed while making up our own clever verses to Kumbayah.

All of which means that once the vitamins are dispensed and the outfits selected and we’ve made up several songs, there’s quite a bit of time in the day remaining. To do what? Well, that is the question.

Given that it’s an appalling naught point naught degrees outside, the park is obviously OUT. But my child being my child tends gets fed up easily which means that laying in the crib and staring up at the ceiling is also OUT. And so, before you can say, “yawn” we find ourselves packing into the stroller and bustling about to various classes on the Upper West Side.

Monday’s class is “Story Pirates” at the JCC — a campfire-esque singalong involving a guitar and various shakable instruments. Even though Pirates bumps up against feeding hour (11 a.m. SHARP) it’s worth it just for the music. Plus, today the group leaders employed a parachute and that’s always win-win with August.

On Wednesday, we have “Hands On” — an utterly precious music class for precocious babies in which piano is played, instruments are examined and songs are sung. It’s a festival of aural deliciousness which August adores.

On Thursday, there is “Mummy and Baby Yoga” — one glorious hour during which August lays on his mat and watches mummy do triangle pose. If he were older, he’d have a good chuckle at how inflexible mummy is, but right now he still thinks she’s perfect. (Ha! That’s a good one.) And after mummy has had her yoga, there is baby yoga comprising songs and tummy time and toes-to-the-nose full-body stretches.

That leaves Tuesday and Friday: long days on which we yearn to escape our wintry cabin. Shall we sign up for more music? Gym? Are we old enough for arts and crafts yet? (OK, even this Type A mummy admits: No!) Maybe we just need to CHILL OUT. It is winter, after all, and hibernation has its plus points.

Tags: Activities, Playing, Singing

There are toys and then there are toys.

And there are toys and then there are obsessions.

Enter: The Owl

I found the owl the other day at Planet Kids. She was strapped into a cardboard box and her wide eyes looked at me and spoke to me. And if they spoke to me, I thought they might speak to August.

Little did I know…

August is, frankly, addicted to the owl.

She’s a silly-looking thing. In lieu of feet she has one green plastic leaf and one wooden ring which are strung on to cloth “legs.” Her wings are one red, one blue and they make crinkly noises. When you shake her, a twinkling sound emanates from her fat tummy. And speaking of tummies, she has a baby owl attached by a string tucked into her tummy pocket. August spent a good portion of yesterday licking the eyes of the baby owl. And August spent a good portion of today sucking on the pointy tip of one of the momma owl’s ears until it was damp through.

There we are. August loves his owl. I didn’t even know children as young as he could have obsessions. But they do. And clearly this is his.

Tags: Playing, Toys

There’s no doubt about it — mums are squares.

It’s not that I was ever particularly cool, but let’s put it this way: I was never as uncool as when I became a mum.

Dork, square, call me what you will. Either way, the desperately uncool antics spill over to every corner of life. For example —

You might catch this mum singing three consecutive cycles of “Baby Beluga.” In public? YES!

OR….

You might spot her doing dances and jigs and slinging her hips from side to side just to make baby feel wonderful.

OR….

You might overhear her talking about the weather — rain! sun! sad bones cloudy skies! — as if it’s the latest gossip.

OR…

You might observe her reading aloud from “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” with the same relish as a normal person would devour a Stieg Larsson novel.

It’s just part and parcel of being a mum. (Or so I tell myself.)

Of course, if August were 15 (actually, make that 9 … or even 7?) he would be mortified by the sing-songy-hip-slingy lady who is his mum. But, today he’s not complaining. And who’s watching, anyway?

Back to Baby Augie.

Tags: Moms, Mother, Playing, Songs

Yesterday, August didn’t want to sleep.

He was cheerful and chirpy from morning to noon to night.

He lay on his playmat and kicked. He smiled. He cooed. He refused to nap.

So….

His mum decided she was going to be especially active with him today. She’d sing songs. She’d read stories. She’d give him an extended (extra fun!) bath. She’d take him on two walks instead of one. She’d bring out all the toys. She’d play music.

But today, August didn’t want to be awake. All he wanted to do was sleep.

So….

His mum folded up the playmat. She silenced the CD player. She put away the books. She dropped the toys back in their bin. She did one walk. She did a shortened bath. She sang only the softest songs.

While his mum may have decades of experience over him, at age five weeks, August has once again foiled his mum.

Predictability is not the name of August’s game.

Back to Baby Augie.

Tags: Playing, Schedule, Sleeping