Oliver has found a new toy. Yes, he may have finally moved beyond the empty water bottles! Last night’s toy of choice was the remote control. He still doesn’t understand the power that this device yields in our household, but he is amazed by the little blinking red light that goes off whenever he hits a button. When I told a stranger of my baby’s interest in the remote, she said deadpan: “he must be a boy”.

Papi was at a board meeting so The Kid and I played fetch with the remote. I would move it to the far end of the bed and then watch him inchworm his way across until he got the remote in his little hands. Before he put it into his mouth, I would remove the remote from his death grip and place it in the opposite corner of the bed. Oliver would stare at it intently, as if to will it towards him. When that didn’t work he would inch his way to the corner once again. Grunting and moaning until he reached it. This went on for about an hour and a half before he tired himself out, had a bottle, and fell asleep.

As a test, when he knocked the remote off the edge of the bed I held my hands close to his ankles in the event that he attempted to try an go for it. He did. He didn't even think twice about the two foot fall. He just inched himself right over the edge. I did think for a moment, that this would be an ideal way to learn about gravity, but I thought differently just in time to grab his ankles and slow down his fall.

He slowly descended the side of the bed until he hit with his right ear flat on the floor and the rest of his body stacked above his cocked head. I held him in that position for a few seconds so he could think about the position he let himself get into, then I let him fall comfortably onto the hardwood floor.

At that point he just kept inching his way to the remote, as intent as ever to just keep on keepin' on. I don't think he learned anything from that test, but I know I sure did.