Funny how you can have three kids, think you raised them about the same, and yet they have totally different personalities.
John is, hands down, my independent child. He can wander happily about the house, entertaining himself for great lengths of time. At just 2 years old, he can outlast Maggie (nearly 5 years old) for self-sufficiency. (And James was no better than Maggie until he learned to read to himself.) But it doesn't stop with entertainment.
John helps himself to snacks. Our attempts to keep him out of the snack cupboard have been in vain. He broke the safety latch via sheer brute strength, and now just helps himself to raisins, crackers, granola bars, whatever. I have had to draw the line with his new trick, though. He now opens the fridge and pulls out whatever looks interesting - a dish of butter, a gallon of milk, a hot dog.
John also likes to be left alone to eat overnight. He climbs out of his bed, pads into my bed, and demands "milk-uh." When he has switched sides 2-4 times and is sated, he throws the covers back, cries out "My Bunk-y" and pads back to his own bed to go to sleep. Seriously. James and Maggie would eventually learn to sleep on their own, but they even now wouldn't voluntarily return to their own beds once ensconced in mine!
No comments:
Post a Comment