Monday, April 8, 2013

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Mima has been saying from the beginning that Michael would end up getting his big sister into all kinds of trouble, and - boy- has she been right.

The kid has got a mind for mischief, and Abby is perpetually in awe of his creativity. He thinks it's a great idea to climb into the lower shelf of the changing table; she does it too. Until it breaks, that is. He thinks it's hilarious to pull on the side of the changing table; she tries it out and pulls the thing on top of herself (it has since been tethered to the wall).

Up until very recently, it's been a problem that I've run into only on occasion, since Abby only took the time to make note of the most troublesome things that he was doing. However, it seems that every action Michael takes is fair game.

Like when he bangs on his tray during dinner, very loudly. Abby then wants to bang on the dinner table. If I ask her to stop, I hear the typical response: "Michael does it!"

Or like at lunchtime the other day, when Michael tired of actually drinking out of the sippy cup, and decided to use it as a hat, instead.



Guess who thought that was the greatest idea since sliced bread?

It's been nearly impossible to manage, since Michael is not quite old enough to discipline, and Abby is not quite old enough to understand why he is effectively getting away with doing things that she can't do (I try to discourage him, but unless I can distract him, which is immensely difficult, I generally fail at the task).

And now, Abby has a new sibling to copy: Amelia.

Thankfully, Amelia can't do much yet that's worth imitating, but Abby seems to think that if she cries in a similar manner during tantrums, they'll have more effect. Or maybe she just likes the way it sounds. She's definitely altered her usual wailing to match the rhythmic newborn "wahs" that Amelia voices.

If only she would take it upon herself to mimic Amelia's bedtime routine. When I put her down for the night, she stays. I've got to say- trying to get through dirty dishes, a sporadically fussy newborn, and trash night while overhearing an overtired toddler run circles around her room like a maniac and scream like a banshee on the two occasions that her father went upstairs to intervene did not a relaxing evening make.

Ultimately, her silly little head hit the pillow sometime after ten-o-clock. Again.