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seventeen months
Some day I will again post about something other than my kid. I keep meaning to! And then I get distracted. I mean I can't even post about my kid timely, and he's all I'm even posting about at the moment. Sigh.
Meanwhile, on Monday the prince was seventeen months old.
What can I say? He has resumed eating meat occasionally. We don't normally watch TV with him, but I have learned that turning the TV on mesmerizes him for long enough that I can trim his fingernails without a struggle, and then he doesn't feel any particular loss when I turn it off again. The latest project is related to bedtime and not having to rock him all the way to sleep before putting him in the crib - I want to be able to put him in there and he goes to sleep himself. So far, so-so. Monday he cried for five minutes and then his dad went up and rocked him to sleep. Tuesday he cried for five minutes and then went to sleep. Wednesday he cried for five minutes and then I went back up and patted him for about two minutes and he went to sleep. Yesterday I put him down and stayed and patted him pre-emptively, but then when I left the room he cried for five minutes though much less hysterically than he'd done before, after which I went back in and patted him for about thirty seconds and he went to sleep. I know we have to train him to do this just like all the other sleep trainings; he's not going to be magically ready for it on his own.
Nor is he going to magically potty train himself, which, before you say anything, I know he's not ready for that yet. But he loathes having his diaper changed, so one wishes he could be ready to be out of diapers sooner than Presumably Another Year And A Half From Now. Sigh.
His most charming new thing is singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat." By which I mean he rocks back and forth and says "row row row." One time - luckily the time I had the video going - he said "row row row boat" (closer to "whoa whoa whoa boe") and matched the pitch at which I had just sung it to him as well. ♥ My little musician.
We are nearing a Cambrian Explosion of language. I can't wait.
Meanwhile, on Monday the prince was seventeen months old.
What can I say? He has resumed eating meat occasionally. We don't normally watch TV with him, but I have learned that turning the TV on mesmerizes him for long enough that I can trim his fingernails without a struggle, and then he doesn't feel any particular loss when I turn it off again. The latest project is related to bedtime and not having to rock him all the way to sleep before putting him in the crib - I want to be able to put him in there and he goes to sleep himself. So far, so-so. Monday he cried for five minutes and then his dad went up and rocked him to sleep. Tuesday he cried for five minutes and then went to sleep. Wednesday he cried for five minutes and then I went back up and patted him for about two minutes and he went to sleep. Yesterday I put him down and stayed and patted him pre-emptively, but then when I left the room he cried for five minutes though much less hysterically than he'd done before, after which I went back in and patted him for about thirty seconds and he went to sleep. I know we have to train him to do this just like all the other sleep trainings; he's not going to be magically ready for it on his own.
Nor is he going to magically potty train himself, which, before you say anything, I know he's not ready for that yet. But he loathes having his diaper changed, so one wishes he could be ready to be out of diapers sooner than Presumably Another Year And A Half From Now. Sigh.
His most charming new thing is singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat." By which I mean he rocks back and forth and says "row row row." One time - luckily the time I had the video going - he said "row row row boat" (closer to "whoa whoa whoa boe") and matched the pitch at which I had just sung it to him as well. ♥ My little musician.
We are nearing a Cambrian Explosion of language. I can't wait.
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