The Smasher at Story Time

Baby Gwen is more than a year old now, which means she is no longer an opinion-free little bundle in the sling, but rather a cherubic version of The Donald.

With an older sister constantly testing her battle reflexes, she is an able competitor who takes crap from no one. She immediately detonates an earsplitting scream when she is stripped of a sharp pencil. And she doesn’t hesitate to use karate-chop hands if she senses impending proximity to another toddler.

Big girl calls her “the smasher.” Gwen smash!

Recently, I more or less abandoned mama-oriented outings to seek out instead those that will curry her favor. Last week, I had high hopes for story time at the library — especially when I saw many similar-sized tots arriving on the scene.

OK, I’ll admit it: Gwen was not really old enough to attend. The age was supposed to be from 18 months to three years. But I thought, “How much difference could five months make?”

Apparently, a lot. After obtaining special permission to be there, Baby Gwen was soon wriggling out of my arms, knocking into seated kids and then staggering across the quilt shrieking “Hi!” over the “Open and Shut Them” song.

I, in turn, was debating whether I should use any distraction or restraint techniques — and if so what kind? My thoughts then turned to Dr. William Sears, the great sage of attachment parenting. What would he do?

As I looked at the other older children sitting serenely with their mamas, it hit me: Dr. Sears would just leave. Especially since we weren’t even invited there to begin with. A-duh.

So yesterday we tried again, but this time we visited the more age-appropriate “Books and Babies” event. This story time featured very little sitting still and a lot more bouncing on mama’s knees, making animal noises and chasing bubbles.

Much, much better.

Sure, Baby Gwen still swiped a “K-is-for-Kangaroo” story-time square and tried to use it to dust off her neighbor’s hair. She also screamed pretty good when another kid attempted to take her miniature basketball. But hers was like the violin part in an orchestra of anarchy.

In fact, the librarian said that Gwen did wonderfully well and even gave her a shiny red star. My baby responded with several “oooh wows” before wadding it up into a gummy ball and giving it to me.

I guess that means I’m not fired.