Tristan has become, ummmm, challenging in the last month. He has taken the idea of exerting his will to a new level and multiplied it.
I think becoming more and more mobile is adding to it. He is hearing the word no a lot more than ever. I try to distract him with another option, but this little guy will not be fooled. He wants what he wants.
The dishwasher is of particular interest to Tristan. I have to sneakily load and unload it. I used to let him play at the dishwasher, but that went out the window when he grabbed a knife last week. And it wasn't a butter knife.
There are a lot of things that bring out the "Stinker Face." One of the things that brings it out is his bib. He hates bibs; has hated them since he was a newborn. And since he's been primarily breastfed, he hasn't had to deal with them too often. He's not exceptionally drooly (unlike myself) so he doesn't have to wear them all the time like some of his little friends. We mainly bust them out at meals. And he hates them.
I must add that the Stinker Face is accompanied by high pitched screaming. This is a vocal kid. Always has been. And he's loud. Like rattle your brain loud. God is funny like that. He gave me three kids at once, 2 with a language barrier and h-o-r-r-i-d giardia, who were afraid of all things and wouldn't eat almost anything, and a screaming banshee for a baby. It is really something else that I haven't completely lost it. But I'm getting off track.
Enjoy the Stinker Face.
Mommy tells him, "No."
Winding up. It looks like a smile, but it is not.
No, it is not. That, my blog friends, is a baby smirk.
Nose scrunched up. Lips pursed. This is accompanied
by huffing and puffing through the nostrils with
intermittent screams. You will notice the moving
hands. They beat up and down. Unfortunately he
has his head bowed, so you don't get the full effect.
It is truly something else.