Monday, November 4, 2013


Poor James. He didn't nap nearly enough today, then was kept up an hour past his bedtime because we had to pick B up from work in the evening. Add to that the fact that his body was under the impression it was an hour later still, and the poor child didn't know whether to run riot or simply lie prone on the floor.

On the plus side, he was so easily frustrated that he figured out how to fling himself on the floor in despair without hurting himself. The first couple times he had to express how the world was ending because I wouldn't let him play with the window blinds, he hit his head on the floor. But he soon figured out how to sit down first, then carefully lay himself down so as to avoid undue pain while expressing his deep woe over the great injustice of the world and mothers who won't let you pull an entire shelf of cds onto the floor.

I'm impressed. At this age, his brother was deliberately banging his head on the floor to express his pique. Clearly James is made of more practical stuff.

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