The Squirrelly is shaping up to be quite the bruiser. At seventeen months he stands a head taller than most toddlers his age and has already wearing the largest size in infant footware. Upon meeting him for the first time and observing the discrepancy between his physical and behavioral development, many people understandably assume that he is a retarded three year old.<\/p>\n
There’s no way to know if this trend will continue. But, if it does, and he winds up a hulk compared to his elementary school classmates, it will be incumbant upon me to teach my son the fine art of not being a bully.<\/p>\n
Alas, this may prove to be a problem, as I have no expertise in this area. Which isn’t to say that I was<\/em> bully in school — far from it. It’s just that bullying was never viable career path for a child of my stature, so I never had to grapple with any ethical quandries when opting not to pursue it. Indeed, any sentences describing my childhood years that contained the verb “bullied” was infinitely more likely to feature my name as the direct object rather than the subject.<\/p>\n So I’m not really sure how to go about imparting the whole “with great power comes great responsibility” message, and I’m often afraid that I am inadvertently teaching him the wrong thing. Take the other day in music class, for instance. All the parents were sitting in a circle with their toddlers on their laps, and the instructor was clapping her hands in assorted rhythms. Most of the other children were clapping along, but The Squirrelly was just looking at the other kids with curiosity. So I gently took hold of his wrists and brought his hands together repeatedly in time with the beat.<\/p>\n After about a minute of doing this, I glanced down and noticed that The Squirrelly wasn’t exactly clapping; while his left hand was flat, he had the fingers of his right hand curled into a ball.<\/p>\n So there he was, looking at each of the smaller children in turn and ominously punching the fist of one hand into the palm of the other.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Squirrelly is shaping up to be quite the bruiser. At seventeen months he stands a head taller than most toddlers his age and has already wearing the largest size in infant footware. Upon meeting him for the first time and observing the discrepancy between his physical and behavioral development, many people understandably assume that […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[31],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3022","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-squirrelly"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3022","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3022"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3022\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3022"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3022"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/defectiveyeti.com\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3022"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}