I have been lucky in that my youngest child, Gorgeous, was a very good baby. He was the model of patience through my little dose of baby blues and mash’Allah he is a happy, cheerful little boy who loves to laugh, even when no-one is sure why, even when he’s fast asleep.
He seems to be making up for all his past patience though with a vengeance, or maybe he’s just training for his career as a daredevil? He particularly enjoys throwing himself downstairs if he sees someone coming up towards him, assuming completely that they will catch him. He scared the wits out of Fashionista Sister once, when he jumped from the top of the stairs as she was half way up. She just caught him and handed him over to me looking shocked saying “your kid is so thick!!”
His other past-times include poking his fingers into running fans despite our pleading with him not to and touching hot things like irons and the tawa (flat chapatti pan). Most kids will have a go at this at some point, but he seems not to learn and so does it again if your not watching him like a hawk. He recently hid the firelighters (for lighting the oven – our cookers ignition button doesn’t work) and refused to tell us where until the next day when we asked for them to warm his milk. He promptly opened the washing machines door and pulled them out. The same week he waited till I had to visit the loo and then stuck a firelighter into the fire under the saucepan and burnt the end off. He was copying what he thought we did and it was a lesson to me to switch everything off at the plug and then lock the kitchen doors and windows if I ever want to visit the bathroom again.
His latest little game is refusing to sleep. Although the older two children have been shipped out (and share a room with their grandmother), Gorgeous is still sleeping in our room. So I put him to bed at 8.30 and he runs off, I try again and go downstairs and can hear him running around upstairs again, climbing onto the top bunk of Little Lady’s bed and sneaking downstairs to see what I am doing. This goes on until about 11.30 when he either falls asleep on the sofa or tells me he’s tired, gets into his little bed (which he has broken the safety guard off) and asks for his blanket. Every time I try to tell him off he laughs, which just makes me melt.
I’m convinced the angels protect these little ones, otherwise we’d all fall on our heads, get up look stunned for a moment and then just toodle off as if nothing happened.
I think we have a lot in common. My youngest son is 2 1/2, and he was the best of my four babies. Slept through the night at two weeks. Adapted very well to a continent change.
ReplyDeleteThen as he got older, he became much more mischievous. He hunts for gum and snacks throughout the whole house. He takes off his diaper and poops on the floor, but won't use the toilet. Ruins my most expensive makeup, sometimes smashing it into blankets and curtains.
My husband also sees this as a sign of intelligence. I do too, but it doesn't make me feel better ;)
Mashaallah he is so CUTE!!!!! I just love the pics. He sounds like quite the little character, and I am certain you have your hands FULL.
ReplyDeleteMay Allah always keep him safe, during those mischievious moments, ameen!