…to MonkeyBeef’s stroller. that thing has survived 8-1/2 years of carting two brother-butts around, as well as countless pukes and poops and food spills. i think it’s finally about had it, though – and not just because i hit it with my car last week! he’s just pretty much done sitting it. he’ll probably use it every now and then for the next six months or so, to haul his butt back to the car after he’s exhausted himself one way or another, but other than that, he’s too old for it (which is good, since i think we’ll get 8-12 more butthauling-hours out of it before the bent front axle breaks.) sitting in a stroller, which is massively entertaining to kids between 6 and 12 months of age, starts to lose its charm after the first birthday; by 18 months or so, about 90% of kids find it as charming as a 53-year-old prostitute passed out in her own vomit. other than getting picked up to cross the street, taking a walk with the boy now always involves him walking. still pitches a massive fit anytime i attempt to hold his hand, but he’s learned to rein in the id a bit and now limits himself to the sidewalk, so outings can be almost civilized. ahhh, milestones.
he’s hit a lot of milestones lately. and by “milestones,” i mean “dirty tricks.” he can hang like a spider monkey from the new, over-his-head candy drawer. he can rummage through the drawer of plastic cups until he comes up with one that’s tall enough to reach the water dispenser on the refrigerator, fill the cup, take a drink, pour the rest of the cup out on the floor, then go slipping back and forth through it. he can quietly open the front door and then beat ass down the sidewalk. best of all, he can climb up into a kitchen chair, climb up onto the kitchen table, pour a soda out, and happily sit and suck soda out of his own pants while daddy’s busy mopping up the table. and when we quickly instituted a PUSH YOUR CHAIR IN THE MINUTE YOU GET OUT OF IT rule, he immediately began exploiting its gaping loophole: all he has to do is bumrush a brother who’s sitting in a (pre-pulled-out-from-the-table) chair. you’d think 26 lbs vs 37, 39 or 50 lbs wouldn’t get very far, but he’s been successful about 20% of the time. and, since we’ve made it very clear that he will not be getting away with beating up his brothers, he’s already working on figuring out how to pull out a chair himself (i’m almost hoping he’ll tip one over on himself and never try it again, btu he seems to understand that he needs to pull either at or below the center of the chair’s gravity, so he may be pulling it off sooner rather than later.)
so, all of this is a bit advanced for a 19-month old. exactly how advanced? glad you asked! a social worker/ speech therapist team showed up last week to evaluate the Beef’s “delayed language acquisition,” (ie, his tendency to speak like R2D2.) as part of their assessment, they asked a series of questions about each of 6 different developmental areas, from language to fine motor to social skills. it was entertaining as hell to watch them try to figure out which box to check based on my answers.
Q: what does he do when he doesn’t want the food he’s offered?
A: stomps on it. or if he’s really pissed, puts it in his mouth, runs to the garbage, and pretends to puke it up with lots of retching noises.
“that’s… creative.”
Q: how does he do with climbing?
A: (no sooner was the question out of her mouth than MonkeyBeef suddenly came plowing across the dining area, leaped face-first onto the back of one of the rocking recliners, yanking it back so far that it looked like it might fall over entirely; then as it rocked back forward, he somersaulted down the back of the chair to land squarely on his butt in the seat.)
“wow. that answers that one!”
et cetera. anyway, in every other area, his skills measured between 17-26 months of age, but his language skills are at 10-12 months. see? i TOLD you he was retarded!
anyway. the therapists were awesome, not at all perturbed by things that didn’t go by the book, realistic, and reassuring. in short, they said if i was worried, they’d be happy to offer services right now (“services” being them coming once a month to teach me some ways to goad him into talking, rather than some shitty weekly clinic appointment full of structured boring bullshit), but they didn’t really see any red flags; he’s just a late talker. they said they’d call back to check on him around his second birthday, and i should feel free to call them any time if i was worried about him.
anyway. here’s the retard’s official 18-month portrait. and the nice lady at the sears portrait studio worked for every penny of that $9.95 sitting fee!
