Now that Jim-Jam has become accustomed to toddling about, we’re beginning to see the emergence of some distinctly toddlerish behaviour. Or, to put it another way, glimpses of the wilful little gremlin that awaits.
The whole business of learning to speak is so exciting and fun …until the word “No” arrives and becomes flavour of the month/year/decade. Cue this morning’s typical nap-time exchange:
Me: “James, you’re tired. Would you like to go to bed?”
James: “Bed! Bed!”
Me: “Yes, bed! Shall we go to bed?”
Actually most surprising of all is how early THIS has arrived:
Simultaneous: “No!/Yes! No!/Yes! No!/Yes! No!/Yes!” *laughter*
Honestly, I thought you had to be at least 3 before the arrival of Attitude™. His dad’s genes are clearly running amok. I don’t know if I can cope with two argumentative horrors living in my house.
We’re also starting to see what I can only describe as toddler-tantrums. Sometimes these are frustration-induced, e.g. when he tries to lift a too-heavy book or toy out of his toy box. (I usually hear those tantrums wafting down the corridor from his bedroom, building up volume and ire until someone goes and helps him out, at which point it is transformed immediately into squeals of radiant joy.)
Others are purely brat-like. E.g. when he lugs a book over to one of us while we’re trying to eat and we say “Not now” and he starts to yowl in outrage, before sitting on the floor and literally turning his back to us and wah-ing away with his little legs and fists waggling about. (We try not to laugh openly)
Other than that, he remains an extraordinarily cheerful soul. I took him to Gymboree yesterday and his face nearly fell off with an hour of gleeful grinning. I think he’s reached an age where he really loves the company of other children. Hopefully this will make his transition to 3 days per week at nursery easier to take.
He has developed an especial penchant for older girls and makes a beeline for them everywhere we go. G calls it Cruising Cougar Town. This week alone he seems to have gone girl crazy, though he has very little idea of how to impress them – bless.
Here he is demonstrating the depths of his naivety by trying to wow some older ladies with his destructo-skills:
And here he is texting the little girl behind him (whom he had just spent a good while bothering on Richmond Green, much to her ennui)…
Most affecting of all – last week he met a rather gorgeous and geeky little girl called Isabella who was sweet enough to play with him for hours and spent the whole time picking up his jigsaw pieces when he threw them on the floor.
Have you ever seen a baby look so in love?
Now he wanders about saying “Bella” all day long, especially when he sees pictures of pink dresses or (for some bizarre reason) pictures of rabbits. I mentioned to her mother that I’m afraid that she has imprinted herself upon him as the standard to which all future girls must adhere… i.e. beautiful, blonde, clever and willing to pick up after him. Oh dear. The single life awaits.
In food news, he remains skeletal but might just be starting to get some appetite back. His diet for the last four weeks has been pretty much limited to a bowl of Ready Brek each morning and, for the rest of the day, sporadic cubes of mature cheddar that I try to post into his mouth whenever possible. Disturbingly, he also seems to have gone off anything like yogurt, fromage frais or fruit smoothies, all of which he used to love. Now he won’t entertain them anywhere near him. Still, in the last couple of days he has started to accept the occasional meal of cheesy pasta or veggie cous cous. That and dried fruit bars and Frazzles, a guilty pleasure indeed. Even worse… yesterday after Gymboree I sat in a pub garden with a few other mums and tried to coax him to eat some chips. (I could actually hear myself doing the Harry Hill “chippie chips!” voice at him… somebody needs to shoot me now before I start offering him chicken nuggets).
Well that’s all I have time for so I shall ramble off and try to grab some lunch before he wakes up. Bye for now.