Kendall’s oral exploratory phase is in high gear.  There is no piece of dirt or debris safe from his chubby fingers and 7 teeth.  The top rails of his crib look like a wild animal attacked it, and I find him after every nap with a ring of wood stain and polyurethane chips around his mouth.  Fabulous.

This also coincides with what seems to be the beginning of defiance and boundary pushing.  I am fairly certain he can distinguish the word no, and I’m pretty sure he understands it.  I told myself months back I would not abuse the “NO” because I was worried it would loose effectiveness.  Of course, I made that silly little promise to myself before Kendall started doing things like pulling the Internet cable out of the wall, attempting to scale the blinds, and crawling as quickly away from me as possible straight for the bowl of dog water.  There I am right behind him, sprinting across the room to intercept, escalating the “no” as I get closer.  “No, honey.  NooOO.  NOOO. NO.  NO,NO,NO,No.  NO.”  I wag my finger like an old lady.  He looks over his shoulder, giggles with glee, then turns on the baby burners and books it.  So cute that he thinks his newly perfected crawl can out pace me.  He’s always surprised when I catch him, and then, of course, he tries the exact same thing again minutes later.

So today’s funny story is this.  I’m working at my desk, he is maybe 6 feet away and quietly playing.  This is my first sign something is wrong.  My son does not get quiet unless he is plotting or investigating.  He never quietly investigates the safe and healthy toys I provide.  It’s always something he’s not supposed to have.  I look up and we make eye contact.  He smiles and slowly pulls his hand up to his face, as if to taunt me.  I know what comes next, though I can’t really make out just what is going to meet it’s demise in his slobbery chompers.

I stand up and begin the series of “No”.  With each one he dramatically brings his hands closer to his face.  Half way there I get a good look at what is in his hand.  OMG.  It’s a dead spider.  “NOOOOOO!!!  Ewww!!  NO.  NO, NO, NO, NO.  Ewwwwww!!! Kendall, NO.”  The closer I get the quicker he moves.  In a matter of a second my brain is thinking “Grosss!!!  OMG.  DON’T let him eat that.  But Ewww!! You have to touch a dead SPIDER!  Quickly,  just fling it out of his hands.  HURRY.  OMG.  Boys are so gross.”

This reaction is apparently very entertaining to an 8 month old (and to think, I was JUST blogging about watching my reactions around him).  He was laughing hysterically at me by the time I grabbed his chubby little hand and flicked the icky spider out of it.  Blech…it makes me shudder just to think of him chomping down on it.  I’m pretty sure he got a leg or two.  I’m not bothered by the occasional leaf that makes it into his digestive system, but a spider is so….ewww!!!

Kendall is 8 months and 5 days old

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  1. This: “Grosss!!! OMG. DON’T let him eat that. But Ewww!! You have to touch a dead SPIDER! Quickly, just fling it out of his hands. HURRY. OMG. Boys are so gross.”

    Just made me literally laugh out loud. He’s such a boy.

  2. Oh my goodness! Gross! Big Brother never did that, at least not that I know of. At least ypu were able to give him a laugh (and get that yucky spider away from his mouth). 🙂

  3. Ha! I get the evil smile when I tell Ian not to pull my hair. As far as the crib rails go, I gnawed a nice rut in my crib as a baby and I survived. 🙂

  4. OMG, ewww I would have died. I am so scared of spider. Wait, am I going to have to protect my baby from spiders sometime in the future, oh no, a new worry.

  5. My mother-in-law tells me that my husband used to eat rolly-pollies, and he seems to be okay now (aside from the OCD tendencies – your husband and mine definitely have that in common)… Guess it’s just a boy thing.

  6. Pingback: So you're going to be a Boy Mom | Baby Rabies

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