Thursday, October 9, 2014
Randomly just stops and lays down with his face in the carpet. Sometimes he just chit-chats, sometimes he yells, sometimes he just lays there. It's pretty weird no matter what he decides to do with it, let's be honest.
Temper tantrums to a certain degree. This includes flipping out randomly, including about toys and food. For toys he literally will have a melt down that they're not functioning, only he's not using them correctly. Food, he just randomly decides it's not good enough. Awkward. Mostly correlates with teething.
Brad teaches primary to the ten and eleven year-olds, and they love George and recently George has decided that he loves them right back. He even lets them hold him and even asks them to hold him, especially Josh. Josh, Stetson, and Jacob like to drive cars with George, wherein said cars often end their lives repeatedly in large explosions. The boys also taught George how cool it is to drive his cars on the walls, of which he now repeatedly requests me to do at home. It's pretty cute.
Loves, loves, loves kids, especially older boys, like the ones in Brad's class. It's weird because he doesn't particularly love his cousins getting up into his personal bubble (they like to get really close, like face-to-face), but when we were at the play area at the mall while taking a break at Comic Con, he was just so happy, no matter how close or not-close the others kids in the area got. He even collided with another baby and got tripped over several times and he never once got mad. George literally did not want to be picked up, he just wanted to crawl around and chase all those kids for forever.
One week in church, George and I were sitting in the lobby hanging out for the last hour of church, and the deacons from the ward that gets out thirty minutes before us were preparing to go gather fast offerings and George wanted to go with them so. Very. Badly. He sat on the couch and yelled across the lobby at them; he totally wanted to go be BFFs and join their conversations. It was pretty hilarious! He did the same sort of thing at an Activity Days party for the dads and daughters, who were swimming in my parent's pool. George wanted to get in there with them SO bad, it was hilarious. He was, again, chatting it up at them from the side of the pool. He was also pretty ticked when I took him back into the house, haha!
Basically, George is definitely becoming a lot more social. He's still got a bit of stranger danger in him, like when he determines that someone has approached him far too quickly and way to friendly for his taste. He sort of does this whole, "Who do you think you are, making silly faces at me? You don't even know me," diva thing if people are too friendly too quickly. Yep, diva.
George still refuses any sort of attempts to get him to try walking or even standing on his own. He's way too smart; if he doesn't figure out what you're doing at first and you actually successfully trick him into standing on his own for a second, he totally remembers the next time you try to pull that trick on him. He simply is firm in the idea that crawling is far more efficient. Or something. Pretty much he's just opinionated and he likes to express said opinion.
The funnies thing that comes from his insistence on crawling for forever is this awkward sort of zombie-without-a-leg drag that he does to carry his toys across the room. George will have a toy in one hand and then scoot towards his destination with one knee up and the other leg of propelling himself forward, using his unoccupied had to help pull himself along. It's pretty hilarious, trust me. And again, trust me, he totally looks like a baby zombie.
George just keeps saying more and more words. "Apple" is the big favorite of the month, but "banana" is pretty high up there as well. He calls all lights "blue" because of the night light he learned his colors from. He now says "beep-beep" and other sound effects while playing with his cars (which are his very favorite toy in all of existence). He learned how to say "Brandon" earlier this month as well, the first relative's name he's learned to say. "Yay" and "yeah" exclaimed all excitedly are also favorites.
He still doesn't say "no", which is AWESOME because he already has other ways to be a stink butt, so I'm happy that doing it in words hasn't happened quite yet. Phew. We try really hard to give him direction rather than just saying "no", like, "George, we don't touch that, find something else to play with" (this particular point of direction deals with his obsession with wall jacks, like where you hook up for internet or phone. He loves poking his fingers in those things. Great).
George's greatest accomplishment continues to be figuring out how to sit on the dog bed or touch the dog food/water before I can catch him. He succeeds more often than I'd like. Because, ew.
Officially off formula! One night we ran out of formula and we decided to give almond milk a shot; if he didn't like it, we'd just go to the store really fast and grab formula. Um, yeah, it totally works. He loves it, and we're lovin' that he loves it. Because formula smells terrible. So, so, so terrible. I'd have George brush his teeth three times a day to brush it out (which I suppose isn't a bad thing... but you know. IT SMELLS).