Why, yes, I know exactly what I'm doing. |
Today, he was sitting on his blanket (as we have hard wood floors and I keep the heater low) and he Ate. It. His noggin made quite a boom. Because he's my second child, I knew better than to rush to him cooing and ahhing. Ainsley benefit from that fretting a bit much and now she's a wee drama queen. I did, however, walk over to him to see if this noggin bump was really an issue. He threw quite the fit. Crying. Fussing. Real. Tears. So, I picked him up and comforted him.
Just now, Blanket: Take 2 Electric Bugaloo. Xander eats it in a similarly remarkable fashion. I'm reading a *scintilating* article about rhetoric from 1978 and stuck in my chair so I can't walk over to him. His reaction: NOTHING. As a matter of fact, right now he's crawling after one of his toys under the table.
My point? Anyone with kids knows that a child is more likely to cry or feign pain/illness/whatever in front of Momma and Daddy. I just find it interesting how early we become aware of audience.
No comments:
Post a Comment