I have found a solution for all of the (baby) world's problems: puffs. These little flower-shaped snacks are puffed grains that dissolve in your mouth. They come in a variety of flavors, from sweet potato to strawberry apple to cinnamon, and they are typically the first finger food you introduce to babies. My boys adore them, so much so, that the offering of puffs can stop any tears or tantrums.
Mad because your brother took your toy? Try a puff, sweetie.
Rammed your un-helmeted head into the corner of a coffee table? Have a puff, my bruised baby boy.
Upset because I'm leaving the room to do dishes? Let these puffs take my place, darling. Mommy loves you.
Seriously, I have yet to encounter a situation in which puffs did not stop their tears instantly. Just the mere mention of the name "puffs" slows down the tears, and once I spread a handful of the coveted morsels on their blanket, moans, groans, and shrieks are replaced with Mmm's and Num-num-nums.
And while they do not seem to have the same effect on adults (promises of puffs have yet to calm Larry down after a bad golf game), they are magical for most kids. My niece, Woodley, is 2 and had been off of the puffs for over a year when she stumbled on a container of them at my house. She has since come out of puffs-retirement. My nephew, Blake, is 5, and if I leave puffs out while he is over, they have a habit of disappearing.
I guess I could compare children and their puffs to adults and their chocolate and booze, but let's be honest: chocolate never makes me feel better after I hurt myself and vodka only makes me cry more when dealing with abandonment issues. I think puffs are the ultimate elixir, and we should all petition Gerber to invent an adult version to fix bad economies, natural disasters, and general grown-up woes.
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| A reverent Grayden admires a single puff. |
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