Saturday. Luca’s first fit

Luca is learning what it is to say what he wants and to get angry when he doesn’t get it.  Tere’s a funny thing about luca playing on his own.  When Anand is around, Luca doesn’t mind playing on his own, as long as papa is not too far away (say 2 yards at most).  Luca will play, and once in a while look at his dad, smile, and as long as he gets some attention then, he’s OK and resumes his games.  The minute I walk in the room, Luca acts differently. He complains with a “haaannn” to see if I’d come pick him up. If that didn’t work, he tries again, checks if I noticed. Regardless of whether I acknowledge his presence or not, he’ll “haaann” me till I pick him up.   Well, Saturday was no exception.  Luca didn’t want to play on his own for more than a few minutes.  I’d move him around and set him up by the bookshelf, then by the mirror, then in the kitchen on his seat, then in the dining room.  But he’d complain after a few minutes.  I had to prepare diner for Mamita and Marie Odile who were paying us a visit, so I set him up in his sitting chair in the kitchen, right next to me, with plenty of toys to play with.  He haaanned, and haaaned, and haaaaned, and started to cry and scream.  Tears were rolling down his cheeks.  After a while, I thought he was in pain, I picked him up and he shut up immediately (except a few more haan which he seems to utter just to make sure I remember he doesn’t want to be sitting somewhere).  I wasn’t done, so I put him back in his chair and the little tyke just screamed out so loud he could have woken up the entire building.  I let him cry.  After 10 min he started to get tired of crying, he calmed down and starred at me with the accusing look of an abandoned child. That was his first real fit…

 

I’m also starting to say “no”.  While he doesn’t trot around yet, he can grab stuff.  Anything within arm’s reach is a potential toy.  The soap bottle, mummy’s plate, the phone, the remote control, the light switch on the ground, the books on the shelf, the plant, the candle, the antenna of his music player, mummy’s old shirt.  Everything he can grab is his.  And it’s good to be eaten.  When I change him, there’s a box of Kleenex right next to him.  He twists himself till he can reach out and pulls one kleenex out, then two, then three.  I didnt say anything, I watch.  But then he tried to put it in his mouth, and I explained he couldn’t do that, I took the paper out of his mouth, and continued dressing him up.  But he did it again, and again and again.  So I took the Kleenex away.  I don’t know if he doesn’t understand “no luca, you cant do this”, or if he just doesn’t give a darn.

 

Food on its way. 

When I sit Luca in his chair in the kitchen (thank you Gillian and Darin!), he understands that it’s time to eat.  Within 30 seconds, he gets very agitated and complaining that the food is not already in his mouth.  Like his father when he is hungry J

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