#cloth monkey

I am amazed at how much time has gone by since Leo was born. He is going to be six this year in May. Six! I barely remember what happened on Monday but I can fully recall those baby milestones. I remember when he took his first step. I remember when he went potty for the first time. I remember his first day at preschool.

As Leo gets older, I sometimes find myself to be less nurturing. It doesn't mean I love him less. I just expect Leo to accomplish certain things without me having to be so lovey dovey. When I was a kid, my dad was hardcore on academics. He would have me practice penmanship on college rule paper when I was six. Then he would make me do fractions with the Sunday ads by asking how much detergent the would cost per ounce with the sale price versus the regular price. Granted good writing and math skills are still key but I resented him for making me use up all my weekends studying and practicing when I could have been playing outside when I was a kid. Do I resent the fact I did those things instead of playing outside now that I'm in my adult years? Not really. I appreciate it more now. Even though I promised myself I wouldn't be like that with Leo, the sternness my father exuded comes out of me at times. The hubby has told me many times to rethink my behavior and to retrain myself. I always refute his point by telling him that I'm not an emotional, overly lovey person. Does he not know I'm Asian? 

It's just not my thing to be so affectionate. I relate myself to the wire monkey. Harry Harlow did this experiment with baby rhesus monkeys. There was one wire monkey with a bottle filled with milk. The other wire monkey was covered in soft terry cloth but did not provide any food. Harlow discovered the baby monkeys craved the terry cloth monkey over the wire monkey. Even though the wire monkey provided the basic need for hunger, the baby monkey chose comfort over food. (Never mind what happened to the baby monkeys when they got older.)