Speaking of independence

Hank is funny and feisty and daring and the very definition of IDGAF.
He is all emotion and not much reason.
Sometimes I'm afraid he is destined to end up either in the ER or in an anger management program?

He has heavy tastes and strong opinions.  He is enthusiastic about what he likes.  Mainly other people's food.  He is equally if not more enthusiastic about what he does not like.  Mainly the noise the printer makes, and the scary reclining chair at his grandparents' house.  And also : WAITING.  He hates to wait.

He gets frustrated when he isn't given something he wants the moment he wants it.
He wants to hold the spoon, to hold the toothbrush, to hold the sunglasses and the cell phone and the LIPSTICK.  To hold the fragile-est thing he can find.
He sees Tolliver's water bottle as a possession which they share; he likes to carry it under the crook of his arm, fingering the spout so that water drips and leaves a trail in his wake.
He wants to be allowed to climb on the table and pinch Cheerios out of Tucker's bowl, milk running down his forearm.  Or to climb on the table and touch the chandelier.
He pulls cutting boards out of kitchen cupboards, empties bottles of shampoo in the tub, pours animal cracker across the floor.
At the pool, he is ALL IN.  Like, other people stop to watch him. He stands right in the middle of the fountains, crawls out in water until it's too deep and then keeps going, jumps off the side all by himself.
Turns out he is ALL IN at the creek, too.

There are a number of tasks he cannot quite handle, yet our participation is not usually very welcome.
He wants to be independent, and yet he seems to want one of us around ALL. THE. TIME.

Late at night, when I have a moment to regain my personal space, I am reminded that we've survived these toddlerhood declarations before.

1 comment:

Kristy G said...

Love that baby!