Star Jonesin'
Abbie’s first Christmas present was her star stacker. Her grandmother gave it to her while we were visiting last Thanksgiving. She gave it to her early because Abbie was fast approaching meltdown status and a new toy seemed like a good way to distract her from the crushing reality of life. Plus my mother couldn’t wait to give her first grandchild a Christmas present. The star stacker has a yellow base with a pole sticking up from the middle, four variously colored stars of descending size with holes in the center to be stacked flat on the pole, and a happy star to put on top. Here’s a picture:
At this point, it’s an effective stacking toy for entertaining young children. Fortunately the manufacturer realized that no toy should be without multiple battery-powered functions. As you move the four stars on and off the pole, they trip a button on the side that activates a glissando chime and short sequence of flashing lights. When you put the star on top, stand back because the toy is about to play one of five tunes from the public domain with an accompanying light show. That’s the kind of panache we should expect out of a toy from the “Dance Baby Dance!” toy line, a mildly disturbing name that conjures up images of an old west cowboy shooting at a child’s feet.
Notice in the above description, I talk about “you” moving the stars on and off. The toy is rated for 6-months and up, but at 6-months, which is almost how old she was last Thanksgiving, Abbie was still mostly in blob stage, meaning I interacted with the toy while she watched, kind of like how the Cubs play baseball while I watch, except at no time while playing with the toy did I leave 11 men on base while only scoring one run against the Cardinals. My memory is a little fuzzy at that point since Abbieupdate hadn’t been invented yet, but I think the limit of her interaction with the toy at 6-months was to grab the larger stars and chew on them. I believe the toy succeeded that night in delaying a meltdown by several minutes, and when we were done I gave it back to my mother so she could wrap it and give it to her at the appropriate time.
Fast forward a month to Christmas, and Abbie was nice enough to look surprised and act like she’d never seen the star stacker before when we opened it. She still couldn’t do much with it, though. We packed it up and took it home with us, and she continued to play as it developed motor skills, stimulated the senses, and encouraged cognitive abilities. At least, that’s what the advertising claims it does. If all of our world leaders had enjoyed the star stacker as young children I imagine they’d be a lot closer to finding world peace, or at least they’d have better tactile skills. Slowly she learned how to play with it on her own. I think the first thing she discovered was the little button on top of the pole that activates the music when pressed, negating the need to place the happy star on top. To this day the happy star remains in the bottom of her toy box. Eventually she also figured out how to take the stars off the pole, meaning she could entertain herself with it for the 17 seconds (and she got faster as she got older) it took her to pull all four stars off the pole. She stayed at that developmental stage for months, though, meaning that once she tired of pushing the music button, if she was going to play with it I had to be present to put the stars on so she could yank them back off the pole.
Then suddenly she figured it out. I was eating my dinner in peace the other night while she played quietly in the living room for a change. When I checked on her I noticed the stars on the stacker were in a weird order even though I usually try to leave the stars in descending order because I’m vaguely obsessive compulsive about such things. I pulled the stars off, tried handing them to her, and in a magical moment she took the star from my hand, sized up the pole, moved the star over the pole, fumbled with it a few times trying to line up the hole with the pole, burped, and finally slipped the star onto the pole. Here’s a picture for proof:
I applauded wildly and made her do it again, and again, and … whoops she lost interest and decided she’d rather chew on a book instead. I’m so proud of her, and I owe it all to my insistence that she entertain herself and let me eat unbothered.
At this point, it’s an effective stacking toy for entertaining young children. Fortunately the manufacturer realized that no toy should be without multiple battery-powered functions. As you move the four stars on and off the pole, they trip a button on the side that activates a glissando chime and short sequence of flashing lights. When you put the star on top, stand back because the toy is about to play one of five tunes from the public domain with an accompanying light show. That’s the kind of panache we should expect out of a toy from the “Dance Baby Dance!” toy line, a mildly disturbing name that conjures up images of an old west cowboy shooting at a child’s feet.
Notice in the above description, I talk about “you” moving the stars on and off. The toy is rated for 6-months and up, but at 6-months, which is almost how old she was last Thanksgiving, Abbie was still mostly in blob stage, meaning I interacted with the toy while she watched, kind of like how the Cubs play baseball while I watch, except at no time while playing with the toy did I leave 11 men on base while only scoring one run against the Cardinals. My memory is a little fuzzy at that point since Abbieupdate hadn’t been invented yet, but I think the limit of her interaction with the toy at 6-months was to grab the larger stars and chew on them. I believe the toy succeeded that night in delaying a meltdown by several minutes, and when we were done I gave it back to my mother so she could wrap it and give it to her at the appropriate time.
Fast forward a month to Christmas, and Abbie was nice enough to look surprised and act like she’d never seen the star stacker before when we opened it. She still couldn’t do much with it, though. We packed it up and took it home with us, and she continued to play as it developed motor skills, stimulated the senses, and encouraged cognitive abilities. At least, that’s what the advertising claims it does. If all of our world leaders had enjoyed the star stacker as young children I imagine they’d be a lot closer to finding world peace, or at least they’d have better tactile skills. Slowly she learned how to play with it on her own. I think the first thing she discovered was the little button on top of the pole that activates the music when pressed, negating the need to place the happy star on top. To this day the happy star remains in the bottom of her toy box. Eventually she also figured out how to take the stars off the pole, meaning she could entertain herself with it for the 17 seconds (and she got faster as she got older) it took her to pull all four stars off the pole. She stayed at that developmental stage for months, though, meaning that once she tired of pushing the music button, if she was going to play with it I had to be present to put the stars on so she could yank them back off the pole.
Then suddenly she figured it out. I was eating my dinner in peace the other night while she played quietly in the living room for a change. When I checked on her I noticed the stars on the stacker were in a weird order even though I usually try to leave the stars in descending order because I’m vaguely obsessive compulsive about such things. I pulled the stars off, tried handing them to her, and in a magical moment she took the star from my hand, sized up the pole, moved the star over the pole, fumbled with it a few times trying to line up the hole with the pole, burped, and finally slipped the star onto the pole. Here’s a picture for proof:
I applauded wildly and made her do it again, and again, and … whoops she lost interest and decided she’d rather chew on a book instead. I’m so proud of her, and I owe it all to my insistence that she entertain herself and let me eat unbothered.
posted by Matt at
9:31 PM
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