Pushing Buttons

I arrive at nursery to pick J up.

Me: How was his day?
Nursery assistant: Fine, ate all his food, but didn't have a very long sleep.
Me: That happens... And what's he been up to?
Nursery assistant: He pushed a doll around in the trolley, did some painting and climbed on some furniture.
Me: Did he now?
Nursery assistant: Yes, and laughed when we asked him to get down.
Me: Ah.
Nursery assistant: Yeah, he finds it really funny. Cheeky monkey.

Back home, I relate the story to W.

W: Well, he is doing that more and more lately. Except at home he seems to find clever ways around things. Whenever I tell him not to do something he tries a subtle variation. When I told him to sit down in the bath the other day, he slowly lowered himself just enough to touch his bottom down and then quickly stood up again. He enjoys it.
Me: I know what you mean. When I said not to pull the books off the shelf the other day he stopped, but a second later started prodding them gently. All the time watching me for my reaction.
W: He knows!
Me: Seems so.
W: It's all about experimenting with what's allowed.
Me: Even if he doesn't understand everything we say, he's modifying his behaviour because he knows something is wrong.
W: It's fascinating.
Me: We've always got to be one step ahead.
W: Sometimes three or four...

How to Scare a Baby (unintentionally)

We don't go out much, so we thought we'd treat ourselves to a car wash.

W: What are we in for?
Me: The full works - double foam wash, wheel scrub, full wax and chasis clean.
W: Pushing the boat out eh?
Me: The car gets dirty on the open road.
W: (suppressing laughter) The M3 to Basingstoke is not 'the open road'. You make it sound like Route 66.
Me: And?
W: Well, it's not is it?
Me: A guy can dream.

W manoeuvres the car into position and we watch as foam sprays the side of the car. Then it's the turn of the brushes. J, in his car seat, looks worried.

W: Don't worry. It's just a car wash. It's making everything nice and clean.

J is not convinced.

W: (nudging me) Look at this will you. Poor little man.

Me: (looking around at J) Don't worry Mister. It's OK.

J looks uncertain, apprehensive even.

W: Now I know how they make children look frightened in those disaster movies. They film them in a car wash, then green-screen it and add the appropriate background.

Spielberg's got nothing on our (inadvertent) techniques.

One Long Streak of Baby

It's been a while since I last posted and so many things have happened. One thing hasn't changed though - at the risk of getting too schmaltzy, we still marvel every day at the way J grows and develops.

Me: It is OK that we 're so rapt with everything he does?
W: Of course, he's our little man.
Me: But other parents do it too don't they?
W: Almost certainly.
Me: I mean, it's not as if I'm booking him into a top university just yet or anything...
W: He will develop as he develops.
Me: But... he's so aware of everything around him, so inquisitive...
W: He is that... but may be it's standard for most babies... he's doing very well. Our little precious...

We watch him doing something delightful for a minute or two...

Me: And look at the size of him.
W: That, I can't get my head around.
Me: How did he get so long?
W:  My 'little' baby.
Me: Not so little now...

Toast, Unexpected

Last night, at bath time, J grabbed a piece of toast I happened to be eating and started munching on it himself... in the bath. This unexpected turn of events was fascinating and very funny. Later, I duly cleaned the soggy remnants from the plughole. Earlier today...

W: He's becoming a lot less destructive, don't you think?
Me: Well, he's not flinging DVDs around, if that's what you mean?
W: Yes, he's actually becoming gentler with objects.
Me: True. But I wonder if he might be diverting his attentions to other pursuits?
W: You're talking about an 11-month-old child here.
Me: Exactly, his brain is developing in many different directions all at once. Who knows what he might be into next?

A minute later, W calls from the bathroom.

W: There's toast in the shower.
Me: Told you.
W: That doesn't mean anything. It just means that there's toast in my shower.

Later, this evening, as W is tidying toys away.

W: There's toast in the toy box.
Me: Now do you see a pattern?
W: Hmm...

Babies Everywhere

A few observations as we leave a baby clothes shop. Inside, J had been smiling at everyone with less success than usual.

Me: I suppose the problem with taking him into these shops is that there's too much competition.
W: True. In a baby shop, he's just another baby.
Me: Too much cuteness around perhaps?
W: Maybe. Though he fought his corner with the smiles.
Me: At least the shop assistant was cooing over him.
W: But there's something else that concerns me more.
Me: What's that?
W: In a shop full of so many babies, it's really hard to know if it's yours who has pooed.
Me: I hadn't thought of that.
W: You can now...
Me: What...? Oh... I see.

John Lewis changing room, here we come.

Drop Offs and Pick Ups

J has started nursery one day a week and is also doing settling-in sessions. He's not always too happy about it. I arrive at nursery to collect him and see J in floods of tears. 

Me: Hello!
Sandy (nursery assistant): It's your Daddy! 

J looks up, still sobbing and reaches out for me. 

Me: It's OK, it's OK. It's Daddy!
Sandy: He's been really good today...
Me: I was worried because he was so upset when I dropped him off this morning.
Sandy: He was, but after a bit he played with some toys, spent some time outside and was generally OK. (to J) Weren't you? 

J is a little calmer now. 

Me: I'm glad. It's difficult when the only thing you see is tears.
Sandy: He has been having a nice time. We even took a picture.
Me: You did? 

She heads into a nearby room and retrieves a polaroid.It shows J concentrating hard as he stands at a table smearing red cornflour paste everywhere. It's quite a thing to see him through another person's eyes, getting on with things in his own time, quite separate from Mummy and Daddy. 

Me: Wow, look at that.
Sandy: Yeah, he had already upended a bowl of green cornflour on the other side of the table. You can just about see it... 

She points and then proudly holds up the red top he was wearing this morning, covered in green paste. 

Sandy: I think he really enoyed himself.
Me: Looks like it.

Later, at home. 

W: Do you think they took that picture just to reassure us he's OK while he's there?
Me: It worked.
W: True. So now it's just us who have to get used to missing him. 

We're still working on that one.

He's Just a Bit Tired

J and I are at the checkout of our local supermarket where the cashier attempts to make J smile.

Cashier: Hello!.. Hello!...

A small amount of gurning later...

Cashier: He's not up for smiling today, is he?
Me: He's just a bit tired.

For reference, this is always a good stock-in-trade answer. She tries again, waving her hands. 

Cashier: Hello!... Hello!...

I attempt to help things along by coaxing his cheek. He maintains a steely gaze.

Me: Go on, give the lady a smile.
CW: Ah well. That'll be £18.24 please. 

I pay for the groceries. An old man squeezes past with his own bags.

Man: Hello little fella!

In full view of the cashier.J breaks out into the biggest grin I've seen in ages, complete with full arm and leg waving.

Man: Lovely.

Pause

Man: Do it again.

J obliges with another bout of smiling and waving.

Man: Do you know what? That has really made my day.

The man walks off smiling to himself.

Me: (moving away, not looking at the cashier) Has someone decided to wake himself up?

I find these little explanatory phrases fascinating. We're always using them to indirectly explain an action or justify a situation.