Wednesday, June 8

Toddler Time

I feel like every week I say, "Doodles is more of a toddler than ever," but I swear his energy level has soared. He's running and screeching and stealing toys and interacting with kids and generally being your absolutely stereotypical toddler. He hates being confined to his car seat and screams when I try to put him in it. Clothing is an issue. As in he no longer wants to wear it. Which is fine when we're at home, but I do insist on clothing on when it's time to go out. Call me a prude. But at home, he starts to wiggle out of his shirt, yelling out, "Shirt off! Shirt off!"

I feel bad, as it seems life has become one big "No!" "No jumping down the stairs!" "No running into the street!" "No poking your eye with the fork." We've started to have to make use of "naughty time." Naughty time is restricted to when he is physical with someone. At a playgroup last week, a boy was playing with Doodle's kitchen set. It wasn't enough that Doodles knocked him out of the way to get to it. Doodles then squarely planted both his hands on the other boy's shoulders and shoved him. And again. And again. By the time I made my way across the yard, I thought Doodles had most likely shaken the kid down for his lunch money. So, naughty time. Doodles also gets naughty time for hitting, pulling hair, and kicking.

Of course, not all of the behavior is bad. He's singing lots more. He's playing somewhat nicely with friends ("playing nicely" can quickly devolve into "shoving match," but it's generally out of fun that malice). He's talking a lot more to us, requesting favorite books by name. He's interested in longer stories. He's becoming more involved when we go to singalongs and story times. He says, "please" and "thank you," and even remembers some of the time to say, "bless you" when someone sneezes and "excuse me" when he burps or "toots." (See, Tweeds, I am teaching him some manners. "Burp!" will come later.)

He's changing so fast. I keep looking at him, getting teary eyed, and thinking, "Where did this little boy come from? What happened to my little munchkin?" And then, suddenly, it'll hit me: "Oh, hell! We're going have to go through this all over again with number two!"

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