The chip off the old block likes a bit of batter

I've been Bradford-ed. I wish someone would tell my sprog that child abuse is simply not okay.

And that this also applies to whacking, scratching, and nipple-pinching your mother to get your own way.

That pinching lark is a bit beyond the pale, I mean.. I ask you! Where the Sam Hill did he learn that from? Just goes to show that kids don't have to experience assault first hand to work up a pretty decent (?) arsenal of their own. Thought the first one was accidental, but no, today he repeated it and it was most definitely *meant*, and what's worse, it was the same damn boob.

Owie!

He's got yet another dreadful lurgy, and being the lovely child he is, thoroughly subscribes to the tenet that misery loves company. By my reckoning this is bot # 11 for the winter, slightly above par for the course according to our doc. My sister snickered helpfully yesterday "Just wait for the head lice!", to whit I replied "Number 1 haircut with the clippers and a good seeing to with the lice comb cos he's too young for the shampoo".

Being male, as yet unworded, and in the grip of the Terrible Twos, his temper and frustration at yet again being restricted to home base is terrible to behold. I was in BIG enough trouble on Saturday for turning the car the wrong way, and instead of taking him to kindy after the toy library visit, we came home. I kid you not.. we'd only just turned left instead of right and the wails of outrage started.

"No! No! No! Me GO! Me GO!"

"Sorry bub, but they don't open on the weekend..." the rest was drowned out in baleful screams which only slightly abated when I sang the theme song to Little Einsteins all the way home. (Well you try doing the hand movements to Incy Wincy while navigating deep shingle! At least LE's song is voice only)

Yesterday was Monday, and Brae expected to "me GO!" to kindy. Cept he couldn't because he had presented with another bug over the weekend. Humpph.. was I unpopular.

What cracks me up about this kid is the way he storms up to you, rakes his nails down your face (and I just clipped them three days ago), screaming "OW! OW!". What the hell is he saying "Ow" for, I wonder?

Just goes to show that blood will out (yeah.. mine, LOL). Thank goodness this kid is mine, because in less understanding hands he could be seriously dangerous, or worse, in serious danger. I know he's frustrated at being a baby-person, at not being allowed to play with other kids despite really wanting to (hey I feel great, who cares if I've got green gobs pouring out my nose?), and not having the language yet to express what he's thinking.

Tonight we're giving him a chance to move a step closer to being a big boy. Kinda happened accidentally.. he soaked through his Safe-T-Sleep this morning, and I didn't get it washed, dry & back on the bed before his bedtime. So we figured, let's see if he can go without it now.

Bizarre that he needs one at all, considering he's nearly two. But it's a hanger-on from his severe reflux days when the only way to keep him in his cot (which was on a very steep angle for said reflux-relief) was the STS. Then it kinda stayed with him because he's a wriggly little sod when sleeping. Once or twice I've bundled him into our bed when he's been unwell (yeah I know.. and don't worry, I paid for my mistake).

You simply cannot sleep with The Braeden. He kicks, he slaps, he shoves his bum in your face & farts, he ruthlessly steals the covers, and he loves to entwine his fingers in your hair... then YANK. Oh *he* sleeps... but you don't.

And if you do doze a little and start to snore, he wakes up and slaps you around the face to let you know you're inconveniencing him. Baby slaps, very gentle to be sure, but utterly unignorable!

Fingers up your nose will do that, strangely.

So wish us luck, and let's see if he can begin to learn to sleep unrestrained. We've had to retrieve him from several weird positions in his bed (a firetruck with ladders for sides and a "roof" over the cab.. too cute). We'll have to pad the ends and sides tomorrow in the hope of maybe keeping him from falling out.

Btw ... guess what my biggest crime was yesterday. Being "Not The Dadda". He was only happy when I rang Wayne up on the phone and let baby babble on to his dad for a long time. It was borderline intelligible at times.. good thing we can call each other's cell phones as often as we want for a mere $10 per month. However all hell breaks loose when the father's cell battery goes flat and the baby-person is disconnected.

Hence the massive tantrum that resulted in a young man being carefully placed on a soft bit of floor with no nearby protrusions or obstacles, and generally left to get on with it while I pretended to do the dishes nearby.

That wee bluey went for 27 minutes. (Yes of course I checked in frequently to see if he was ready for cuddles, how do you think I got this bloody nose?)

Pretty much a record, even for Braeden :-)

Oh MAN I hope he's all better tomorrow and can go to kindy. Otherwise I'd better find a suit of armour, and fast!

:-) "Ow".. don't cha love it :-) It's so hard not to crack a grin when your assailant is doing the voice-over for you.