*Thanks to hubs, I am publishing right on schedule this week!*
Our little sweet man is talking up a storm, some jibberish and some real words. He is a little parrot and repeats EVERYTHING. Luckily I’ve kicked my swearing habit (mostly), so when he starts swearing I can blame it directly on KK. He has a few favorite words and most recently he discovered the power of “no.” I talk to him all day long, narrate what we are doing, tell him what’s coming next, and usually ask him if he wants to do things. Up until now, he’d typically go along with most things and I must admit that I often didn’t ask him with the intention of taking his opinion into account. Because, you know, he’s a baby. And babies do what adults are doing. Example: I’m ready for coffee, so I say “want to go downstairs and get some coffee?” as I’m carrying him downstairs. Sometimes he’d be slightly disagreeable, but mostly he’d get over it once we got to our new destination. Then came the head shake. He experimented with shaking his head no in response to (literally) any question you’d ask him, then moved into shaking only when he really meant no. And now here we are with the verbal no and OH BOY does he mean it. It’s funny, sad, and frustrating all at once to try to have a conversation with him.
Me: Want to put your jammies on?
FVB: (sweetly) No.
Me: OK, but we have to soon because it’s almost time for bed.
FVB: (Less sweetly, this time with a head shake). No.
Me: (after a few minutes) OK, it’s really time for jammies now.
FVB: (full scale sob/moan with head and/or body shake) NOOOOOOOOO!
Lesson learned: don’t ask, just tell.
He also has some very strong opinions about what he likes. His new found obsession is the bath. For probably two straight months I could not get him to take a bath. He was scared of the faucet, cried when I suggested a bath, and truly would not get in unless I got in with him. Even then, he would not sit down. He was slowly turning into a little grunge baby and neither hubs nor I could say when he had a bath last. So hubs suggested bubbles to make it more enticing. My crunchy hippy mama self was horrified (chemicals!!!) and I balked. Hubs, being the smart man that he is, knew that I wouldn’t budge on this myself, so he did some research and ordered bubble bath without my opinion. And, much to his immense joy, it worked! FVB went crazy for the bubbles and they started doing nightly baths while I laid on the bed and drank wine. Everyone was happy. Until nightly wasn’t enough. Suddenly FVB wanted bubbles multiple times per day. He even resorted to getting in Daddy’s shower in the morning, hoping to get bubbles in there (or settling for soap lather). The other night when I took him out of his bath he sobbed and stretched his little arms back towards the tub crying “bubbles!” I might have teared up just writing that sentence. It is so sad to watch his tiny heart break over such simple things. How will my heart bear it as his own heart breaks get bigger? These are the times that I am thankful that all of his sorrows can be soothed by milk, hugs, or a new activity. If only it stayed that simple!
Next time I hope to share some food! See you in two weeks!