
Hi all, I am 25 months old and Mama just realised she did not take a picture of me on my 25th month birthday. She did capture a video clip for me that day but it was to document my participation during sunday school class and not so much to document my growth. Oh well, hopefully more interesting pictures can be taken soon. Meanwhile, let's make do with some of the older ones. ;)
At 25 months, I am still not speaking much and my parents still find it a little difficult to understand what I want at times. I am also throwing more tantrums and sometimes, I will even go on some sort of prowling position on the ground to try to get what I want.
Papa said I must be disciplined more consistently so that I will be more well-behaved. As it is, I can be quite insistent about what I want. It also seems to Mama that I do what many men are already doing - practise selective hearing.
There was once when I was playing with the vending machine outside my school and Mama was trying to get me to leave as she wanted to take me to Yew Tee Central. It seemed like I did not hear what she said to me until she asked if I wanted to take a bus and offered me her bus card. That caught my attention. I took her card and walked away from the machine.
This month, Mama also started me on building blocks and shape-sorter toys. When she saw that I can appreciate my old shape sorter toy, she bought me a new shape sorter with 12 different shapes but I hardly play with it. I seem to prefer building blocks to shape sorting. Using the blocks Aunty Cheyanne and Uncle Denton got me for my 1st birthday, I can now stack 5 blocks on top of each other.
It has also been observed that I am right-handed like Papa. See, I actually use my right hand to press the buttons of the microwave oven.
Last week, Mama finally found what she think was the best word to describe me- Perfectionist. All along, she had described me as a high-C person. This is in reference to the DISC personality description she often heard her college mates used to describe one another. According to Wikipedia, a high C (C for conscientious) person adheres to rules, regulations and structure. High C people are careful, cautious, exacting, neat, systematic, accurate and tactful.
Ok, I don't really adhere to the rules and regulations my parents set but there are things I am meticulous about. For instance, there was once when we were already at the door and about to leave home for church when I suddenly turned and went back to switch off the electric power of the TV console.
Another instance is when I see the gate at the kitchen unlatched, I will latch it. Even though I do not know how the latch actually works and sometimes, I merely succeed in pushing the handle down without actually latching, the impression that it is latched satisfies me. In fact, there were a few occasions when Mama did not latch the gate, perhaps she was in a hurry, and I was the one who was sharp enough to notice the unlatched gate and did something about it.
Though Mama often said I am a high C person, she knew at the back of her mind that I am not exactly high C but she could not find a better word until last week when it occured to her that I am a perfectionist!
We were playing building blocks. When the blocks were stacked too high and toppled, I would sweep the fallen blocks with my hands, causing them to go even further away. This inspired Mama and she finally "found" the word to describe me : I am a perfectionist!
Of course, Mama had told me not to sweep the blocks as it is a very disruptive behaviour and if I were to do this during playgroup, my classmates will be unhappy with me. There was once when she was building blocks and I swept her blocks away despite her telling me not to do so. This disruption to her game got her so mad that she caned me for it. ;(
This month, I am also learning to express my hunger by walking towards the high chair. There had been at least 2 occasions when I walked to the high chair in the kitchen and Mama knew that I am already used to the idea that I have to be in the high chair because that is where I take most of my meals.
Mama must be more conscientious not to loosen this structure as she had many a times, compromised and fed me when I was watching TV in the living room. Just this morning, she fed me bread in the living room just before Papa took me to school. ;p
I am still very interested in phonecalls. Just last week, I "spoke" to Papa on the phone. Instead of just listening quietly like I usually did, I actually said something like "daddy" and uttered some sounds like "ng" or something. Mama observed me and said it was as if we were really having some meaningful/sensible conversation. Ha!
Mama also finds it very amusing when I use Papa's handphone which operates on a touchscreen. The way I tap my index finger on the screen is really cute and Mama thinks I am tapping it like I am an intelligent user. Truth be told, I have no idea what I am actually doing. I just know that if I poke the screen with my fingers, the screen will change and it's very nice to see it change. Papa said this is because I often observe him use his handphone.
This month, Mama also started me on working in the kitchen. She wants me to be well prepared to enter marriage with some basic life skills like cooking and doing one's laundry. Since young, Mama was taught to do simple housework like ironing handkerchiefs using residual heat from iron that has its power switched off and washing her canvas school shoes every Saturday morning. Now that she is a mother herself, she will not spare her son from housework.
It's just that she had never expected to let me help out at the kitchen at this young age and she got this help-out-in-kitchen idea from that toddler book she read. ;p
Then again, I do enjoy helping in the kitchen. Last week, I helped to wash and cook the rice for dinner. Mama sat me in my high chair, placed a paper towel on the dining board and placed my hands in the pot that has rice and water in it. She then placed my hand in water and moved it round and round. She then made sure there was no grains on my hand before she brought the pot to the sink, poured away the water and added in more water for me to rinse the rice. It was great fun and I wanted to continue with this but after a few rinses, Mama told me that's it. I was not too happy and moved my body up and down to throw my tantrum but she proceeded to let me help out by letting me cover the pot and turned on the rice cooker. So I "cooked" rice for the first time. :)
Ok, thanks for reading this far. That is about all for the moment. Mama will update again if she remembers more things. :)