Take Care: Fragile

After not wanting to sleep in his cot, we bundled the little guy into bed with us and the three of us drifted off to sleep. At some point in the middle of the night I put him back in his cot (mainly because he'd taken over my side of the bed and I was being forced to sleep at the foot of it), where he lay talking to himself for a time before drifting away back to the land of slumber. When he awoke this morning he was far from pleasant. He's only just now calmed down after spending most of the morning being clingy and whingey.

He would not allow Patrick to let him go, clinging to him like his life depended on it, and whenever I came near him he would hide his face in Patrick's shoulder and whinge like I was some big scary monster there to take him away. He's still a little like that now, won't allow us to leave him; we are to carry him everywhere we go and hold him while we attend to the things we need to attend to.

With his temperament a little fragile, those occasions when we've had to put him down, he's sat there with his ugly face on and his annoying little whinge. He gets over it pretty quickly though and just sits there with a bit of a smile on his face and chatters to us.

For the first time since he got sick on Monday, Bas has tried to walk again. Unfortunately this illness has knocked him for six and his balance has suffered somewhat. It's almost like he's taken a backward step in his development. Where before he was an accomplished little toddler who could almost run, now he's back to learning to balance and walk steadily again. It's really upsetting for him as well. When he finds himself about to fall over he cries and staggers over to whoever is closest, for comfort. He's decided that for the time being crawling is safest, but there are still occasions where he will try to stand and go for a walk only to upset himself when he starts to wobble. This will sort itself out when his strength returns, which will only happen when he gets over whatever psychological thing he's got that stops him from eating enough food.

The food thing is interesting. Last night at dinner, he would often times refuse the small fork fulls of rice I would offer him, only to eat the few grains that would land on the back of his hand or stick to his lips as I offered it to him. He would play this 'game' for practically every serve, eventually caving in (or me being sneaky and when he yawned shovelling in the rice) and eating it quite happily. It was obvious to both of us that he wanted to eat, but he'd managed to train himself into not wanting it. He ended up having the biggest meal of the week last night, but is still playing the 'i don't want food game' this morning.

He's most definitely a great big sook. And I think he's really enjoying all the extra attention he's getting from being sick, and there are times when you can tell that he's milking it. Oh well, you can't blame him really, can you?