Alex and I spent a week in Florida, visiting my wonderful grandparents (his great grandparents).
He was perfect.
I kept wondering if I had accidentally grabbed the wrong kid on my way down, because this child? Is far too well behaved to be my child.
He was immensely polite, saying “please” and “thank you” every time it was appropriate. He even looked at me after saying a very quiet thank you to “gramma” (what he calls his great grandmother) and said, “Gwamma didn’t say you welcome…” When he got her attention again, he quietly told her that she didn’t say it and when she apologized and said it, he responded with a smile and a “tankoo” (to which she immediately had to say “you’re welcome” again or risk the polite police coming down on her again).
More amazing than his courteousness was his independence. Alex played by himself for the majority of every day we were there. He ran around the pool (“I bein’ caweful!”), splashed his toys in the water (“Look, Mommy! Dey’we gettin’ wet! Dey swimming!”), piled rocks, and did a lot of pretend play with his toys (“He’s making you a sanwich. Hewe. You want a big sanwich?”).
When we were around other adults, he was interactive with them. He wanted to play with everyone, but when they weren’t interested in playing with him he said, “otay” and found something else to do.
He was a perfect child. He didn’t cry once, and only fussed a bit when it was time to sleep or he was ready to get out of his highchair, which, by the way, was a miracle in and of itself. Alex has not sat in a highchair at home for months without a giant fuss.
Seriously, whose child did I take? And how do I get him back? Because the minute we stepped back in our home he was a whining, fussing, bossy and rude little person. “No, not like dat! NO! I want fwuit snacks! NOOOO! Give dat to me! Dat’s mine! NO! Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me! NO! I don’t want to build a castle…YOU build a castle. NO! Not like dat! NO! It needs a bottom! NO!”
It’s a darn good thing he’s cute even when he’s obnoxious.