Got Booger and Other Misfit Milestones

Most parents are familiar with the usual childhood landmarks: Baby rolls over by 4 months, sits by 6 months and walks by 12 to 14 months. Most breeders also know not to sweat it if their kid is a few months off—Boss, for instance, took his sweet time putting one foot in front of the other, finally toddling at 16-and-a-half months. We were almost ready to start sucking our thumbs, but knew he was close. Now he zooms around like a carpenter bee, bumping into into walls on his search for anything sweet or dirty to get his hands into.

But what about the OTHER accomplishments—you know, the ones that are best sequestered on their own Island of Misfit Milestones? Here are a few to beware of:

• Tossing objects from perches on high. Actually, this milestone is pretty cute—until it happens for the 7th time in a row. At 10 months, Stinker discovered the joy of jettisoning items over various edges—high chairs, couches, the like. It first happened at the grocery store in his basket seat when I gave him a box of macaroni to shake so he'd stop screeching. (I hadn't showered in three days; I didn't want the extra stares.) Oh, the glee when he heard the noodles hit the floor and saw me squat. The third time I crouched, it all came back to me—the drop-stop-and-grab-it games had begun. I smiled, chucked the box in the cart, and wondered if he was too young for lollipops.
• Diaper inspecting. Boss began examining doodie around 2-and-a-half. “Want see dirty diaper, Mommy,” he'd suggest. I'd oblige, figuring it was a sign he was nearing the joys of potty training, and that somehow seeing poop would help. Trying to avoid my walnut face, I'd unwrap the diaper as if it were a deli package (liverwurst anyone?), hoping the soiled wipes, or worse, turd mush, wouldn't fall on the rug. “See, there's your poop!” I'd say, forcing enthusiasm. “Everyone poops, and someday you'll poop in the potty!” Let's just say, it can't happen soon enough!
• Nostril fondling. Better known as nose picking. Eventually, around the 2-and-a-half mark, as toddlers continue exploring their bodies, the index finger will find the sniffer. In, out, examine booger, insert in mouth. I know, ew! But to kids, it's like scratching an itch. They have no idea how nasty it is; it's just a way to remove an irritant. Or so I keep telling myself. Boss recently went on his first dig when he had a cold and thought he could unplug his honker with some pipe-cleaning action. I'm not sure how many times a parent must plead, “Use a tissue, please!” before it works. My guess is 1,278.

Scads of other notorious events will pop up and pass—much like a fleet of pimples in adolescence, and even into our 20s, 30s and 40s to make us feel young again. If we're lucky, they'll arrive and part with nary a scar. You may even get a pained chuckle out of the madness; think third-eye zit square above the nose. It's not a milestone, but who can't laugh and cry at that?