It seems as though Alby is picking up a new way to be cheeky/naughty/mischievous every few hours.
Today’s trouble began in the morning when Alby had a little cough. I’m not entirely sure where he learnt this bit of etiquette from, but Alby has a habit of putting his hand over his mouth when he coughs. (To be truly accurate he puts the tips of his fingers between his lips when he coughs, but the overall effect is the same). It was all very cute. My mum then started coughing and Alby, keen to give his sympathy and support (and a bit of cheeky mimicry) then started to fake cough. Hand on heart the boy can fake cough. And as if that wasn’t cheeky enough, he topped it off with still putting his hands to his mouth but pausing and grinning between each little coughing session.
His next moment of cheekiness came when my dad shared some buttered toast with him over breakfast. Alby was given strict instructions not to share the toast with Percy. On receipt of these instructions he took the piece of toast out of his mouth, looked over the chair and dropped the food directly down to where Percy was sitting. And then he giggled.
And then he blew raspberries – showing off a new skill with today’s raspberries involving a stuck out tongue which I confess I hadn’t been treated to before.
Alby is just pure inquisitiveness these days. All the baby books recommend that parents try not to use the word “no” too often, instead distracting babies away from undesirable behaviour towards desirable behaviour. Easier said than done I say to that. Trouble Monkey has taken a liking to one of the kitchen cupboards at my parent’s house – the one that contains all the herb and spice jars. We have tried closing the door and tempting him with a toy, taking him into another room, blocking it with a chair (which ended up with lots of tears after he pulled the chair down on himself), distracting him with other kitchen bits (this resulted in the living room becoming home to a couple of colanders and the cutlery holder from the dishwasher) but still he returns to the cupboard. And, in true Alby fashion (bearing in mind that his throwing skills have been fine tuned over several weeks now) he picked up the jar of marjoram and threw it with all his might onto the floor in front of him where it promptly smashed. Good oh! Well, at least I’m not saying “no” too often.
Tomorrow we’re off to B&Q to buy a child proofing kit.
With all this bottle smashing excitement, Alby was in no mood for bed and instead crawled out of my arms and over to the wardrobe mirror where he started to cluck. I’ve never heard Alby cluck before so I was unreservedly joyous about this new sound (far more acceptable than the squeal he has taken to conjuring out of thin air every now and then). Alby seemed as impressed by this new noise as I was, really staring at himself in the mirror as if trying to work out how he was making his mouth work the way it was. So excited was he by this that he completely deserted the idea of bedtime by grabbing his pull train and pulling it in and out of every room upstairs giggling all the way (or clapping himself) for at least twenty minutes. It wasn’t until he cashed into the door that he finally allowed himself to be bundled into my arms and put to bed. Fair enough I suppose, trouble is tiring.
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