Baby Crack

No, I'm not talking about baby booty crack - which is a worldwide phenomenon for newborn pictures across the country.

I am also a fan of that kind of baby crack.  Nothing cuter than a pair of baby buns.  Or 2 pairs!

But that is not what I'm talking about today.

Baby Crack.

As in, what my child fiends for, gets the jitters over, and is addicted to.  It causes tantrums when taken away, and just the sight of it causes Kingston to whine and thrust his body towards it.

It looks like this:

Yes, that's right.  The dinosaur ball popper is our baby crack.

I'm not sure why its so desirable and fun.  I just know that it is the best toy in my children's eyes.  It plays music and sends balls flying in the air.  The balls are the perfect size for little Stefanich boy hands and mouths.

I didn't even bust it out until recently, because it requires 3 C batteries, and we just didn't have those lying around the house.  And C batteries are more expensive than you would think.  But when I finally bit the bullet and bought them, my boys were addicted.

Addicted to baby crack.

Ignore the background mess please.  There MIGHT be a pillow and blanket on the couch where I napped.  Don't judge.

It started out as just a bedroom toy.  But then we realized its power.  I went in nursery one day with Kingston in my arms.  He spotted the popper under a little coffee table.

And lost his mind.  He was trying to get out of my arms and was whining and crying and acting quite out of the ordinary.  I thought it was weird.  But moved on with the day.

Then a couple days later, David had a late meeting at work, and I had to bathe and put the boys to bed on my own.  While I bathed Kyrie, I put Kingston in front of the popper to play in the bathroom.  He was thrilled.  Once Kyrie was done and in his jammies, I tried to trade babies.  When Kyrie started to play with the popper, Kingston LOST.  HIS.  MIND.

He could not forget about that thing, and fought me about getting in the tub - which he USUALLY LOVES.  So weird.

I have to distract these boys when I put it away.  I have to HIDE it.  And then do a song and dance so they forgot how cool the popper was and move on to the next thing.

Here it is in action.  It doesn't even need to be playing music for them to love it.

Hence the name Baby Crack.

Now when they are crabby or fussy - We bust out the baby crack.

Need to take a shower?  Baby Crack.

Want to eat dinner?  Baby Crack.

Want to see pure joy in the faces of my boys?  Baby Crack.

I'm only hoping that silly ball popper holds its magical power for awhile.

Do your kids have baby crack?  What does the trick for your little ones?  I'd love to know!