quirks and milestones

I have a quirky little toddler on my hands these days. Sometimes Garrett's quirks are sweet evidence that he's comprehending more as he grows older; sometimes they are just frustratingly obnoxious, compounded by the fact that half the time I have no idea what he's trying to tell me. Either way, he is, as always, keeping me on my toes. Here are some of his recent habits:

- He has learned the tricks of the trade when it comes to bedtime stalling. He begs for extra blankets, more stuffed animals, music on the iPod. He needs his nose wiped, his shirt pulled down, another drink of milk. We do what can to appease him -- within reason, of course -- but most nights our only real resort is to tell him we love him and close the door to drown him out as he wears himself out wailing.

- Mealtimes can be just as frustrating. If it's not the fork he just threw on the floor that he needs, it's more dipping sauces (even if he still has plenty of ranch and/or ketchup on his plate). Or it's that his hands got dirty and he needs me to wash them again. I've been having a time lately getting him on a snack-and-meal schedule that we both find suitable. He is, apparently, constantly hungry; I don't want his appetite spoiled. It's a daily battle of whines and wills that usually results in a good helping of unpleasantness (and by "unpleasantness" you know I mean food thrown angrily onto the floor from his perch in the high chair) at the dinner table.

- And speaking of throwing, Garrett is not a toddler prone to hitting as a way of releasing anger and tension (not yet, anyway). He does, however, like to throw things -- dangerously so. It's a bad habit we're desperately trying to break. I'm welcoming any thoughts and ideas on the matter.

I sincerely hope that a lot of these difficulties will sort themselves out as he learns to talk. It's pretty clear to me that most of our daily battles are rooted in our struggles to communicate.

But, continuing on, here's a little more of what my quirky boy has been up to:

- If I help get things started (i.e. undo buttons or snaps, or pull shirts partway over his head), he can undress himself. And then, when prompted, he'll put his dirty clothes in the hamper. Sometimes he forgets that the hamper is not his dresser drawer, but at least he's making an effort.

- He'll also, usually when directed, but occasionally of his own accord, clean up his toys when he's done playing. Of course, I typically need to be cleaning along with him for there to be any motivation, but baby steps, right?

- Perhaps because he's so bent on round-the-clock snacking, he's figured out how to pull kitchen chairs over to the counter so he can climb up and help me prepare food. Except for those times when I can't distract him away from the gas stove knobs or block of kitchen knives, he's actually a pretty good helper -- or, I suppose the more correct term would be onlooker. He loves watching, especially when cracking eggs are involved.

- Despite his tendency toward stalling at bedtime, he does recognize his own sleepiness during the day. When he's tired, he'll do any number of things to get me to put him in the crib already -- he'll bring me his blanket and promptly start fake snoring into the silky side, he'll throw himself down onto the ground in irrational tears until I get frustrated and drag his sorry self to bed (while he smiles smugly to himself during our walk to his bedroom), or he'll stamp his foot and grab me by the hand to lead me to his crib where he'll point and beg to be put.

- He eats with utensils. I had always assumed it would be harder to teach a toddler how to use a spoon and fork, but he figured it out on his own pretty quick. Maybe that's because he doesn't like dirty hands and eating properly keeps his fingers cleaner longer.

- I have absolutely no intention to attempt to potty train Garrett until next spring or summer, but we recently marked a huge milestone in his path to being ready for it: Garrett now recognizes when he needs a new diaper, or new di-di, as he calls it. He's lately taken to going off somewhere privately to, um, take care of his business, and when he reemerges stinking to high heaven, I'll ask him if he needs a new diaper. Yes, he'll nod as he clasps his now filled pants from behind, new di-di. And then, instead of running mischieviously away, he'll let me promptly change him. He'll occasionally respond the same for a wet diaper, but not always, and passing gas confuses him to no end. He can't quite figure out that just because there was a release of sorts there isn't necessarily a need for a new diaper. To placate him, I'll check his pants, but in the end all I can tell him is that there's nothing there but his bare bottom. I'm not usually a fan of bathroom humor, but as the one who changes his diapers, I get a big kick out of this new development.

I'm sure there is more I could share. Garrett is a funny little boy. But I suppose I should save something for a different rainy day.