Friday, July 25, 2008

testing, testing

And so it begins. My beautiful, soft, sweet boy is really testing me. It's hitting and biting, and my mother-in-law tells me he gets at least the biting from his dad.

He looks at me with a big smile, then hits or bites me (it's normally me, though I've had to sign some incident reports when it's been someone at school), then says "stop" and makes the sign for stop. To be fair, if you didn't know that he does the sign and says it, you might not know what he's doing, but I do so I do. I tell him "no-no hitting" and sign "stop," and he says and signs stop and then does it again. Must put the boy down, otherwise this could be an endless game.

At school, he does it when he's frustrated by someone - Nora has a toy he wants or some such. At home, not so. He's really just testing me.

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