Second Hand

For the last several months Benjamin has been able to support himself in a standing position with the aid of his hands, bouncing up and down on his mastodon legs while hanging for dear life from anything he can get his hands on (stacks of ceramic plates seem to be ideal.) Recently this behavior has evolved to include a one handed version of the stunt. Like a man on a bull, Zoogle fastens one hand to the wily and bucking beast that is the World and extends the other to the heavens, lets it ride high and loose, one finger extended and the thumb curled back under the palm, howling and puckering and heaving until the center gives way and he spirals nose first into the floor.

There is a second variant to this behavior which is rapidly becoming the norm. In this newer version, the second hand no longer points heavenward, but flashes instinctively towards another object. If there is a block or a ball or a cat on the floor, Zoogle will squat and try to pick it up. Strangely, it is the collection of these other objects that now seems to be the real object of his standing: the second hand is usually busy exploring the world within seconds of achieving his feet, and he will strain to reach objects that he patently ignored while sitting or lying in their immediate vicinity.

There is doubtless some deep insight into the workings of the human mind behind all this. Uncle Eric suggests that the behavior may reflect some basic acquisitiveness. I agree, though I suspect that there is more to the story than mere acretion. As a mathematician, and thus a man whose waking hours are devoted to ruminations on sets and functions, I'm inclined to view Zoogle's Second Hand phenomenon as a reflection of the way in which the brain understands objects as relations, rather than mere chunks of red, chewable plastic. It seems that for Zoogle, there are Objects, and there are Objects While Standing, and that the twain don't have a whole lot in common. Having worked through the one, he now needs to work through the other, scoopy cup by squeezy doll by long wooden spoon, until he understands exactly what it means to hold this particular thing in this particular moment.

From a parental perspective, this is good news: it means all our toys will hold their interest value for twice as long. Still, there is something troubling about this behavior. One hopes he's worked it out by the time the scoopy cup gets replaced by the girl next door.