Few people know that the original screenplay of Conan the Barbarian was actually about a destructive, crazed baby that swept through homes eating and gnawing everything in sight and tossing various objects around, turning living rooms into crime scenes. A producer read the screenplay and already had a bodybuilder in mind, a certain former governor of California and the setting, subject, and script underwent a drastic re-write and the baby scenes were all replaced by the chiseled Mr. Schwarzenegger. They did retain two elements of the original script: a loincloth (diaper) and a proclivity for destruction. The rest as they say, is Hollywood history.
Bean is a barbarian. She might not being swinging a club, but she exhibits brute force and lumbers around the apartment causing massive destruction. Bean empties bookshelves and cabinets in mere minutes, leaving the contents strewn about haphazardly. The massive mess that this one child creates is awe-inspiring. And, I'm not just saying that as a proud mom. Bean is a monster. If I wasn't so in love with her, I might flee with terror.
Every day always starts innocently enough. Groggy baby plus bottle equals relatively calm happy baby. WRONG. See, Bean is just waking up. After two sips, she wipes the sleep from eyes and then BOOM! She's off and running. Although, technically, she is not actually running. She is actually crawling at incredible speeds. She warms up, by taking laps. Like any other athlete, she has to stretch and get her heart rate up before she can really unleash her full fury. Her warm up includes a diaper change, in which she stretches to knock over the diaper caddy so she can play with the wipes. This is followed by laying on her back and rocking from side to side, strengthening her core muscles, but also making it very difficult to replace the soiled diaper with a clean one. She crawls slowly through the kitchen, living room and dining area around the apartment, gradually building up speed with each lap. After her fifth lap, she spots her LeapFrog learning table and she rushes over to it, pulls herself up and then the real show begins.
The LeapFrog table plays music. Like any toy these days, you touch a button, pull a handle, play a piano, shake a rattle and the toy responds by playing music. This music will eventually cause any sane person to want to stick a meat thermometer in their eardrum so as not to hear the soft repetitive melodies any longer. A baby, however, is entranced by these painful lyrics and will push the required buttons again and again and again. The more buttons, Bean presses, the more excited she becomes. She responds by screeching with delight and moving her hips back and forth rhythmically. Basically, she dry humps it.
My daughter acts like she is in heat. Historically, barbarians also demonstrated this behavior only they favored hapless villagers. Bean's preferences are seemingly much more innocent. Any Fisher-Price or Leap Frog toy is a potential victim. As a general rule, I follow the "If the LeapFrog table is a rocking, don't come a knocking." She's having too much fun. Maybe I should just teach her to hang a sock on it for her privacy?