Last week, we had to go to Vancouver for the Jack Webster Awards.
Noting that this was probably not a great event to attend with a toddler, we decided to leave him with his grandma and grandpa, or nany and bumps as they’re respectively known.
This was to be his very first overnight experience without his mom.
As we left, my wife was wishing him good luck and I said grandma probably needed it more than he did.
In the grand scheme of things, the trip itself had a few standout moments. Of course, it would rain so hard the weekend we went to visit that Vancouver flooded. Furthermore, it appeared the hotel had lost our reservation. As an added bonus, I was originally scheduled to sit at the wrong table.
I was pleasantly surprised to win, as noted in last week’s Free Press and we went back home the next day. Arriving back home, we were expecting him to cry at least a little when mom showed up. We could not have been more wrong.
As soon as she walked in the door he took a few steps back, pointed towards his grandfather and said “bumps.” Next, he insisted someone should take him “outside.” He didn’t really care who it was.
Along with this somewhat new found independence, he absolutely insists on doing things himself now. When giving him water you can no longer hold the glass for him for example.
Last night this resulted in a little bit of a meltdown. He’s always thoroughly enjoyed bubbles. In the past, he would either point to the container and say “bubble” in order to prompt you or bring you the bottle.
Last night, as the bubbles stood on the counter, he was yelling and reaching for them but couldn’t quite get them.
When I picked it up and asked if he wanted me to blow some, he started screaming. When I gave him the bottle he was quiet for two seconds until he figured out that he couldn’t actually open it.
I really didn’t want him to open it and spill the liquefied soap on the floor or drink it, so I didn’t open it for him.
When I took it back and asked him if he wanted me to do it, he ran off as if I’d just committed the worst crime in the world. Of course, I made sure to video the whole thing. I’m sure it’ll come in handy when he’s a snotty teenager.
He’s going to love getting sent a gif of him crying when he’s upset with me 15 years down the line.
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