I Want to Be My Own Shiny Object or Why I Don't Play WoW Anymore

While the human mind may, at times, have a notoriously short attention span, it also has the uncanny ability to fixate on a task to the point that all sense of time is lost. For example, last night I was laying on my bed playing a new game on my phone. It's a simple, repetitive game where you have to prioritize tasks and click through actions as quickly as possible. I kept trying to move to higher difficulties and beat my past times and before I knew it, Daniel came in to announce that he was heading to bed. It wasn't until that moment that I noticed that when the game is running, the clock on my phone disappears. I'd been playing the game for over a half an hour without even realizing it. My mind had been so fixated on the game that it took some outside intrusion on my attention in order to break the spell.

I've seen this cycle of mental inertia played out many times before. A mind in motion can remain in motion until acted upon by an outside force. Casinos know all about it. They don't give you any clocks or windows to judge the passage of time in the hope that you'll just keep pulling levers and placing bets. Television marathons play a similar game when they remove the opening sequence and closing credits from between episodes. This runs one show into the next and before I know it, I'm 3 hours into a Real World marathon and none of my laundry is folded.

The good news is that this tendency can also be used to an advantage. Nabisco knows this as good as anyone. In recent years, they have started marketing many of their long-standing products in special "100 calorie" packs. All food has the nutritional information is right there on the package, so it should be easy to exercise portion control for ourselves, but a full size package of Chips Ahoy cookies is too easy to eat right through in a few days time. While nothing is keeping people from eating several 100 calorie packages in a sitting, the act of having to stop eating long enough to open a new package is often enough of a break in your attention that you have to decide whether or not to keep eating.

Knowing how easy it is to get lost in certain tasks makes me want to be more mindful of my actions. I've always felt like every moment of every day is a new chance to make a new choice, but in reality, those choices usually get made while my brain is on "auto pilot." Sometimes all it takes to snap me back to reality is a little shiny object, whether it's in the form of a tap on the shoulder, the credits at the end of a tv show, or the 10 seconds it takes to get another package of cookies. My goal now is to be my own shiny object. I can't always rely on chance to keep me from getting sucked in. I have to take the initiative to either set myself up for distraction or do my best to minimize them so that, at the very least, I can say that my precious time was spent on something of my own choosing.

I understand people's apprehension about holding babies. Knowing that you hold a new little life in your hands can be nerve wracking. This is especially true if you're a new parent or just aren't used to being around little ones. It's like going to a Catholic mass for the first time - you're not sure what to do and you don't want to look stupid. Even if you've done it before, you have to be able to match the baby's developmental stage with the proper holding technique. Emily has gone through several holding stages to get where she is today.

When Emily was a newborn, the general rules of caution applied. I had to make sure her limbs weren't crimped, her skin wasn't pinched, and most importantly that her head was supported. As she started to develop some neck strength, holding her became more casual, but her preferred position was still chest to chest with arms and legs tucked neatly under. There were many an afternoon when she assumed this position in a sling and happily slept while I cooked, did laundry, or watched tv. Once she had developed to a point where her sleeping didn't amount to near comatose and she struggled to tell day from night, she would sometimes fidget and squirm and cry when I held her. During these times, I would try many different methods of holding her, but often got the best results from having her perpendicular to my body with her head nestled into my side and her legs dangling about. This emulated the position she laid in while breastfeeding and I often thought that might have heightened its comfort. There were a couple of hard weeks when she and I spent most of the night in that position - her cradled in my arms, trying to learn what to do with her drooping eyes or her bursts of energy.

Emily is older now and her neck and legs are strong. She can even walk, which makes her more "toddler" than "infant". When I hold her, I hold her like a child, perched on my hip and supported by my forearm. She holds tight to the shirt on the back of my arm and I manage to accomplish quite a bit with her in tow. Just like we've moved past her gangly limbs and wobbly head, we've entered a time when sleepless nights are a distant memory. Her body has learned that, come 6:30, a fresh diaper and a bit of milk signals sleep. I can lay her down wide eyed and not hear another peep from her until morning.

When Emily got her first two teeth, they took me by surprise. I expected days or even weeks of fussiness with nights broken up by fits of crying. Instead, one day the teeth just appeared. They came later than expected, but with little fanfare. I expect more to arrive anytime and based on the last couple of days, the time may be sooner rather than later. Emily has had erratic naps and has woken up around 4am most nights this past week. It's mildly disruptive, but it only takes a minute of holding her up on my shoulder to put her to put her back to sleep. This evening, however, she woke up a half hour after we put her down. She went back to sleep, then woke up again an hour later. This second time, even after I laid her on my shoulder, she cried and fidgeted. I passed her off to Daniel while I retrieved the infant Tylenol, purchased months ago but never opened. I gave her the medicine and then sat in the glider to wait it out. She cried and squirmed and squirmed and cried. My arms got tired of trying to hold her still, so I reclined the glider and let her move around. She pushed with her feet and tried to roll around and ended up with her head in the crook of my arm and her legs laid across the arm of the chair. For the first time in months, I held that little girl like a baby, which turned out to be exactly what she needed. Whether it was the medicine or the position, she managed to fall back asleep and stayed that way till morning. We might have more nights like this ahead of us, but at least now I know what to expect and I know for certain that this growing little girl will always be my baby.