Bobby never ceases to amaze me. He is learning new words quickly and unpredictably (I didn't realize "drool" was something he'd latch onto so quickly). He is also very observant and I think if he were taller would probably be able to get up enough strength to open the baby-proofed refrigerator door. He knows who sits where, which side of the bed is mine and which is dada's. He knows his name and that the track team at school is way cool. He knows how to say please oh so sweetly, even if he was being ridiculous a split-second before, and he knows that if his words aren't working he can use lots of gestures and body language to sometimes communicate to the apparently not-so-bright adults charged with his safe-keeping.
He's not potty-training. I don't think he's ready for it, but I think he's getting there. We have a potty, he likes to sit on it. He likes to point to it and name it, and Bob and I figure the more we can make it a normal part of the bathroom now the less intrusive it will seem later when he is potty training (I can also think of a million ways that could backfire, but we're being positive here). He is, however, like I said extremely observant. He knows how to take off pretty much every article of clothing he owns except those with fiddly buttons. He also knows that if he plucks at different parts long enough he can probably get his diaper undone. He has been known to, after a prolonged time of silence, run from his room in a moment of naked triumph.
(Warning: What follows is a potty story.)
Tonight after dinner he walked down the hall and Bob and I both assumed it was his room and his toys he was visiting. Instead he had headed into the bathroom, and when Bob found him he had his pajamas undone (lucky duck got to stay in them all day, but unluckily it was because he was sick) and his diaper off and was trying to work out how to get his diaper out from between his legs so he could dump out the, uhm, deposit he had just made. He has heard us flush the contents of his diaper and even watched a few times so he knew what to do. But, the lock on the toilet worked and he was instead going for what he considered his next best option: his training toilet. After we got him completely out of everything he sat for a while, but insisted that we close the door. After all that's how it works for mom and dad, right? Smart kid.
And fast now that I come to think of it.
And stealthily quiet.
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