I work in childcare. I take care of the children, both mine and those of other parents. Summer is very busy for me.

My 11 month old drank from a water fountain. We expected him to play in it, but he leaned in like a school child who had been doing it all their life and pursed his lips and took a slurp.

Came to say this. Here, have my upvote.

And now, writing in two days later, he starts it on his own and giggles. So we are past that fear, apparently.

In my education, this was called The Charm Hold and is very useful for a gassy baby. Yet there are holds which are more useful for a gassy baby.

But you know what is most useful to make babies stop crying? Figure out what it is that they are communicating and act on it.

Sometimes you cannot figure it out because it is something like, “Dad, I need you to poke my left elbow five times while hopping on one foot,” and so they have to cry until something else more pressing comes along that makes their elbow poking irrelevant.

Editing to Add: If you want to stop babies from crying and aren’t going to do the figuring out bit, standing up and holding them vertically against you activates an old, old, old primate danger instinct where they will go silent so as not to attract the attention of the predator while the parent, whose fur their ancient instinct insists they are clinging to, makes the escape. Also, blowing in their face will get them to hold their breath momentarily, which has the side benefit of stopping crying. Cannot cry if you aren’t breathing.

Editing a Second time to Add: Even my own child instantly stopped crying for the pediatrician when he (pediatrician) held my newborn away from me. It has less to do with how the pediatrician held the baby, and more to do with the fact that the pediatrician wasn’t Momma or Dadda and my newborn’s sensory awareness of the world couldn’t locate Momma or Dadda. Danger! Ack! Better be silent to not attract predators while waiting for Momma or Dadda to come find me!

No, we don’t put barrel connectors into our mouths, especially not if they are electrified.

I felt the exact same way. Looking at my first child gave me hope for the future in a way I hadn’t, before. We’re going to be okay.

I finally perfected my cloth diaper poop dunk-n-swish technique to un-brown diapers while out on the go, so as not to have to spray so much in the evening when we get home. It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to be effective at removing the brown solids from a cloth diaper with a dunk-n-swish.

He has figured out that not just dogs can crawl through the dog door, so can he.

Not one a child threw recently, but still by far my most favorite tantrum came when I was chatting with a young boy who I cared for about the very large salad bowl he had found in the kitchen and was playing with.

“It salad bowl,” he proudly said, and then as he attempted to fit inside of it he declared, “I salad.”

His older brother then came up and said, “You are not lettuce.”

The younger boy absolutely completely and totally lost it and melted all the way down, repeating the phrase, “Yes, lettuce. Am a lettuce.”

Of course we all ought to know that nothing about this meltdown was specifically due to the fact that the boy was not in fact a green leafy plant. It was due to the fact that he’d had it up to here with his brother trashing on his play and needed to release some of that irk.

How I handled it: I held space for his big feelings. I let him cry and fuss and kick and yell. So long as he wasn’t hurting himself or others, he needed to process the injustice done to him by his brother and he needed to feel the feelings caused by it. I made sure he was in a safe place and let him become a little adorable ball of emotions and waited for that change in cry, you know the one, where the anger changes to sadness. When we got there, I came over and gave voice to his feelings (“You felt undermined and invalidated. Your brother wasn’t invited into your play but he interrupted in order to destroy it, anyway. That made you mad.”) He came in for a hug, feeling seen and understood. I offered that I could help him come up with some ways to approach his brother about the situation if he wanted. He didn’t want. And so that was that. Within 5 minutes of the start of sad-cry, he was off on another game, this one trying (and failing) to levitate his hotwheels cars.

If you ignore that the intended audience of the book is a parent of an ADHD child, “Why Will No One Play With Me” (book) is a fabulous step-by-step primer that covers all the social and emotional skills one needs to succeed in the world as well as talks the reader (parent) through how to impart those lessons to a child who is good at analytical thinking. I wish there were a book written more broadly that is this good at preparing parents with more than just platitudes and broad goals.

There is something to be said about a small and consistent set of equally intelligent classmates from which to form bonds. I certainly did. It makes one not the weirdo because everyone there is HAG. Then, when out in gen pop and someone treats a HAG kid as The Weirdo, the response isn’t to internalize it with a, “Yeah, I’m the weirdo. No one ever wants to play with me,” but instead with a, “What’s his problem?!” So that’s actually good.

I was thinking more on the emotional side. Learning how to handle big feelings and small feelings. HAG kids tend to - and here I’m speaking from my former high school teacher career which I’ve long ago left - intellectualize the especially small feelings into nonexistence. It requires explicit instruction to just be taught how to feel. Not as an action item. Just as an experience.

When I was a teacher, I had a student make some outlandish and utterly preposterous statement about a gun. He was doing it for the attention as it appears this kid is, as well. I had to report it despite knowing there was nothing to it. The kid got connected with the help he needed for what he was dealing with.

Did you hear these directly or from your daughter? It doesn’t really matter. Either way, go to the school guidance department instead of the teacher. He’s probably dealing with some heavy adjustments from wherever he immigrated from and they ought to be equipped to connect him with a therapist who can help him process those feelings in a more prosocial manner.

Hi from North Carolina. I was a gifted program kid (now and adult) in this glorious state and have had plenty of encounters with children since who are in the program. I even went to the North Carolina School of Science and Mathematics. Go for it with the more rigorous academics BUT the thing you’ll need to enrich in the home environment is those social and emotional lessons. They are getting deprioritized in favor of academics and in order to succeed in the world, the ability to people is actually more valuable than the ability to scholar. But if she isn’t challenged in the classroom, instead of learning how to people, she’ll learn how to be in trouble due to very appropriately suppressing her frustration and boredom as much as her age can possibly do … which isn’t enough.

Also, if she’s any kind of mentally healthy, don’t send her to NCSSM, no matter how much she begs. That’s where people go to have massive mental health issues. The only people who did better at that school, and I am one of them, were people whose home lives were so challenging and unstable that the school was actually an upgrade. Any alumnus - except the ones specifically chosen by the recruiting office, of course - will tell you the same.

I’m still a parent and I’m a lurker. Weekly discussions sound okay.

My news: We have entered toddler territory.