Nineteen Months

My little Booni baby is 19 months old now. Where on earth has the time gone?!

He is (as I’m pretty sure I’ve said over and over again) so different to his brother! They are like chalk and cheese. Booni has ants in his pants. He can’t sit still – not even for a minute. Not even to watch television (I realise it’s not something I should be encouraging – but we all need a bit of peace and quiet). He is very, very active. He hits (out of excitement, I think) and he throws stuff (I’ve got bruises from various toys that have made contact when I couldn’t move out of the way fast enough) and he has to touch every thing. He has to be watched for every single second that he’s awake! He loves food and eating (just like his mama) and will try anything. Books we’ve had for years and years only made it through a day or two once Booni got his hands on them. I keep finding pages here and there. He is not speaking yet, but he communicates extremely well and he understands everything.

He’s like Animal from The Muppets. He’s like an exuberant puppy. He’s like a tornado or a hurricane. A bit like the Tasmanian Devil.

He’s hard work and he’s exhausting. But he’s hilarious! His expressions and gestures make everyone laugh. His incessant appetite is a pleasure to see. He’s a gorgeous, loveable boy.

So while I’ve been substituting, I’ve been leaving my gorgeous, loveable boy at home. He spent a couple of mornings a week with one friend and her son and a couple of other mornings with another friend and her son. So he was busy doing stuff – but he needed more.

He needs to get out of the house. He needs to be doing something at all times. He needs to be busy.

All. The. Time.

So I decided to start him in nursery. Vins was two when he started. But Booni is different and I think the structure would be good for him.

His first day was last Tuesday. He was SUPER excited to get dressed and get into the car. But once I handed him over, there were tears (his, not mine). And there were tears on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday as well. His teacher, however, said that he stops crying after a few minutes and is ok for the rest of the morning. The owners of the nursery tell me (every day) how naughty he is and how different he is to his brother (I’m not sure if this is something I want to hear every day). This morning he started whining when he saw the nursery gates. He went only to his teacher. And he cried – but only a little. So we’re getting somewhere.

PicMonkey Collage

 

 

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