NEW words are popping out of Tate’s mouth every day – it’s like he has no control over his ever-increasing vocab.
He mastered animal noises about two months ago so we regularly hear the odd meow, quack quack or moo on our travels, but now he’s saying actual words our conversations are no longer one-way.
He can tell me that he wants to brush his teeth, put on his shoes or have a drink of juice, which has made life suddenly so much easier.
Now he has mastered the basics I can see his tiny little brain working on overdrive to put all the words he knows into sentences.
He does struggle to use the correct word for what he wants though, at the moment “down” means both up and down, which is very confusing – he stands with his arms in the air looking at me shouting “down”.
I’m hoping he’ll learn ‘up’ soon.
I’VE entered the realms of potty training.
Fortunately Tate already understands that he has to go for a poo on the potty thanks to his toilet issues earlier in his life – prune juice is still keeping that problem at bay, if you’re interested.
But getting him to understand that he can’t just wee when and where he likes is a whole new ball game.
After a tip from a colleague who said that her little girl hated it when her knickers were wet, so that in turn made her start asking to go on the potty, I grabbed a few packs of pants and training began last week.
I taught him to say wee wee, but I don’t think he’s sure why he’s saying it.
He only wears pants in the house, so if there is an accident it’s easily fixed, and so far, every time I’ve done it he has wet from three to five pairs an hour.
In seven days I’ve had one victory and I think that was a fluke.
This is going to be trickier than I thought.
TATE is swimming on his own – unaided by me he can now swim, with his armbands of course, from one side of the pool to the other.
He was so excited by his new-found freedom that he laughed continuously every time he wiggled his way like a tadpole across the swimming pool.
Unfortunately, as laughing involves having his mouth open he did mange to swallow half the pool and he may have also been a little bit sick, but I won’t talk about that.
I’m noticing his need to be more independent every day and he surprised me after swimming when he toddled over to the shower and asked for it to be turned on.
I’ll never understand how children’s minds work – when I wash his hair in the bath he thrashes around like a Tasmanian devil, but we go to the pool and he’ll stand under a shower without batting an eyelid!