Yes, that's right. My son is eating snow. Don't laugh, it kept him entertained for a full five minutes. That's like three hours with an eight month old.
Schools have been closed since last Friday. That means I've been home with the kiddos since Friday afternoon. Daddy has been home with us for most of that, but even he got to escape to work for a little while yesterday. Since Friday, I've left the house twice. Once on Friday morning to run some silly errands with Bink and last night to have dinner with the hubby and kids.
Otherwise known as dear God, I can't take anymore snow or being stuck in this stinkin house anymore, so let's go to Pizza Hut and Target. Cause we're cool like that.
Since we've been imprisoned, the Bink has learned a few new tricks. He can now pull himself up in his crib, on his exersaucer (which is not heavy enough to hold him and sometimes falls over...on him), and on the couch.
He has also learned to SCREAM LIKE HE IS ON FIRE! I'm not sure where this little discovery has come from on his part, but he is LOUD. Like it's the end of the world, someone must be dead, the sky is falling loud. It's the kind of scream that adults would reserve for being chased by an axe murderer in a dark ally...or probably anywhere since there is a murderous axe-wielding person involved.
He expanded on that trick to scream DIRECTLY IN MY FACE. Whenever he finds the opportunity.
Perhaps I displeased him by suggesting his fussiness may be caused my his morning-long lack of napping. Perhaps because I removed the laptop power cord from his grubby little grasp as it was headed for his gummy little mouth. Perhaps its because I wouldn't let him pull on my hair while he was nursing. Yes, surely it must have been that.
He's only eight months (and one week) old. That seems young to me for this level of opinion, determination, and 'tude. Am I wrong? Are other babies this age as bossy as my little dude?
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