Lately, Jude and I have been trying to teach John Patrick to clap, on demand. It's probably an appropriate skill for him to master at such a young age, given that both is parents are big, big sports fans. Since he and I are going to be attending a lot of hockey (Nashville Predators), football (Tennessee Titans and University of Tennessee), baseball (Nashville Sounds) games in the not too distant future, it's not too early to get him clapping.
Until tonight, though, our efforts had met with little success. Usually, John Patrick clasps his hands together and refuses to clap, when I try to manually clap his hands. Tonight, after I put his pajamas on him, I set him down in his crib to wait for Jude to come upstairs and give him his bedtime bottle before she put him to bed. I was bending over, leaning against the crib, talking to him, when Jude walked into the room.
As she walked by us, headed into the bathroom, she said, in passing, "clap for mommy." To my surprise, John Patrick started clapping, lightly slapping his left hand with his right hand. It was amazing! I said, "Jude, look at this!" I told John Patrick, "clap for mommy," and he did it again. For the next five minutes or so, we kept telling him to clap and he'd do it. We didn't even have to clap ourselves. After we told him to clap, he did it. Wow!
I'm pretty sure "clap" is the first word he's learned. At times, he'll say "ma ma" or "da da," but I don't think he knows what either word means. After tonight, though, I think he knows what "clap" means. It's pretty cool.
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