3 posts tagged “baby's personality”

The Boy awoke this morning at 4:45. I shouldn't complain; he only woke at 8:45 last night (just before I jumped into the shower), went back down at 9:30, and slept until almost 5 o'clock. But 4:45 in the morning is still way too early for me.

Anyway, this early awakening meant an early start to our day. After some quality time playing with Daddy and a flashlight and a much-needed diaper change, I fed him a hearty breakfast of yogurt, applesauce, and Corn Chex. He then had the opportunity to roam the house and play for about an hour before I took him to school.

Apparently, roaming the house and napping in the car en route expells enough energy that one - who was well-fed just before leaving the house - might suddenly have a concave belly upon entering the classroom.

Such was the case with The Boy. I packed cheese and crackers to give him for a snack, and he eagerly attacked the cheese with a ferocity I had never before seen. Honestly, you'd never guess he had just eaten breakfast a mere two hours prior.

One of the teachers in a different classroom brought in some miniature muffins, and his primary teacher asked if The Boy could have one. I sampled one, decided they would pose a low risk for allergies, and offered him half of a mini-muffin top. As you can guess, the entire piece went into his mouth (and The Boy begrudgingly washed it down with some formula soon after). I broke apart the rest of the muffin into pieces and set them on the high chair tray.

Another little boy in his class, B, was sitting in the high chair next to him, also enjoying a muffin. His muffin, too, was broken into pieces for him, but B is simply not as neat of an eater. So, while The Boy had finished his muffin and returned to his cheese and crackers (the cheese, of course, being the more desirable of the two), B's muffin was in tiny crumbs strewn all over the tray.

Upon seeing B's tray, the primary teacher exclaimed, "B! What did you do to your muffin?" The Boy craned his neck to look at B, saw B pushing muffin crumbs around the tray, and gave B a look that clearly said, "What's wrong with you? That's a waste of a perfectly good muffin," before shoving a piece of cheese into his mouth.

If it's at all possible, interactions like these make me love The Boy even more!

I have to write this down or I know, at some point, I will forget this ever happened.

Friday night, I asked Chris to change The Boy's diaper and get him into his pajamas and ready for bed while I used the restroom myself. This isn't an unusal request; for some odd reason, my bladder is empty before I leave the office but somehow fills to capacity while en route. I don't understand it.

My bodily functions aside, as I was washing my hands, I heard a very familiar, "Boy, come back here!" from my husband. Chris changes The Boy on the ground, and The Boy likes to roll away from him at the most inopportune times. I walked into The Boy's room and, sure enough, he was crawling towards the door, clad only in his diaper.

I picked him up and placed him back onto the changing mat on the floor. Chris wrestled with The Boy's legs and successfully removed the diaper... only to have The Boy, now completely naked, roll off the mat, sit up, and heartily laugh at his father. Which made Chris laugh. And The Boy laughed even more.

We had never heard him laugh so much, which is what makes this story so much sweeter and that much more important to remember!

Plus, it's would be good blackmail material in another 14 years or so.

Baby C is already displaying signs of a dominant personality. (Where on earth did he get that? Hmmm...) During feeding sessions, whether it's bottle or breast, he requires complete silence. Sometimes this extends to the radio and television, but it usually is relegated to, "No talking!"

This morning, as I was feeding him, my husband asked how he slept last night. I started to respond, when Baby C unlatched and whipped his head around to look at him. Chris immediately apologized for interrupting his feeding, but the baby would have none of it. He continued to stare at my poor husband until Chris ducked out of the room altogether. Only then did Baby C resume feeding. Chris poked his head around the corner and laughed (silently) when he saw the baby was eating again.

His teachers at school say he requires complete silence from them when he eats at school. If other kids are crying, he can deal, but the moment an adult tries to calm one of them, feeding is all over. And God forbid I should cough or sneeze while feeding him. He's likely to launch into an inconsolable crying fit.

My funny, funny little boy.