Weasel Of Doom

DemonChild is not very verbal. We are lucky to get “Bye bye french fries, nuggets all gone” out of him. He does, however, say “Ting-ting” a lot, and nobody knows what the hell that means. He would come up and point at Squeeker, “Ting-ting!” Or see something interesting, “Ting-ting?” Or just babble “ting-ting” for no discernible reason. We are baffled.

DemonChild is saying some words in Russian. I heard him say “Серёжа” instead of Squeeker a couple of times. Dad says he said “машина” when he saw a car. Mom reports hearing “яблоко” when he asked for an apple. Other than that, he is resisting all our attempts to make him multilingual.

Friday afternoon, DemonChild picked up a big rock and tried chucking it around. Dad took the rock from him and stuffed it down the back of DemonChild’s pants. Much hilarity on our part ensued, as DemonChild tried to figure out what was going on and the rock kept sliding inexorably down his pant leg.

It rained on Friday night. DemonChild was begging to go outside. The grandparents let him out for a while, while the rain was only a drizzle, “so he will grow.” (In Russia, we say that mushrooms grow in the rain; hoping it would work on DemonChildren, too.) We shall see if a sudden growth spurt will follow :-)

And then there are a lot of not-so-cute moments. DemonChild refusing to stop picking up garbage, DemonChild hitting people when he is frustrated, DemonChild throwing temper tantrums, DemonChild not doing what he is told, DemonChild being destructive, DemonChild being disobedient, DemonChild being a pain in the ass. Frankly, I am not enjoying this age very much. I miss the sweet baby DemonChild used to be, and hope that once this stage is over, we will get our lovable boy back.