Bribing and strolling

There's a lot to love about Henry's current age. He's curious and excited about everything, and his enthusiasm is infectious. He's an affectionate little boy who loves giving us hugs and one word he uses a lot is "cuddle." Lately he's been adding extra vowel sounds to the end of words, so it sounds like he's speaking pig latin. Very funny. His language skills haven't yet advanced to using two-word phrases, but his comprehension skills are clearly sophisticated. And that's great news for us. Because now we can bribe him.

Yes, bribe him. Sure, some parents might try to pass off these kinds of transactions as "negotiation," but Henry's never been particularly flexible in his demands, so hoping to meet him halfway is always bound to be a quixotic journey. But he knows what he likes, and we know what he likes. So finally--finally!--we have some chips to play with this kid.

I discovered the full power of the bribe last week, when we had day after day of sun and I wanted to get out and enjoy the livelier parts of the city on foot. The problem has always been that Henry does not like sitting in his stroller. Oh no, he does not like it at all. Which is a bummer, because it limits our "walking distance" to his walking distance, which is a few blocks at best. So in the past I've been wary of walking very far with him, because I knew I'd probably have to carry him home when he threw his inevitable anti-stroller tantrum. But the other day I managed to walk all the way to the Glebe and back, making several stops along the way, with Henry happily ensconced in his stroller. And I owe it all to a series of bribes: "If you sit in your stroller, we can go to the library and get new books!" Once at the library, I went with, "If you sit in your stroller, we can go for coffee and you can eat whipped cream." Oh, that one went over very well indeed. Henry loves to eat the whipped cream off a mocha frap. After a delightful stay at Starbucks, where Henry sat in a real chair like a big boy, reading a library book and munching a blueberry bar while I had coffee, we walked home without incident. All it took to get him back into the stroller was a promise to stop at the park on our way. The whole afternoon flew by, and I did not have to resort to my well-honed toddler-wrestling maneuvers even once. And I got to go for coffee and enjoy a long walk in the sun. I almost felt like one of those with-it yoga yuppie mommies who roam these parts, but without the $700 stroller (Have I mentioned my stroller envy? That's a post for another time).