Three. Amazing. When did we get here, kid? When did you go from being my sweet little baby to my sweet little boy? Part of me gasps with relief…The rest of me wants to hold on to you with everything in me and say “Stop! Slow down! Don’t grow up quite so fast!” But growing up you are. You went from knowing words to telling me stories and singing me songs. You amaze me every single day.
You are so funny! You had your father and I in stitches last weekend when you stomped down the stairs like a giant saying “Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell a puppy’s bum!” You tell jokes now too. Sometimes they’re incredibly inappropriate, yet you still crack me up. We taught you anatomy this year because you were so completely curious about the differences between boys and girls. It was either that or let you continue to reason things out on your own and come to the wrong conclusions (like bras were special mommy pockets—your term-- for storing things like crayons, and a really great place to warm up hands that have come in from the cold).
The fact that boys and girls have different tid-bits and what-nots blew your mind. How could this be? And is it EVERY girl or just some of them? And not only that, but pets have boy parts and girl parts too! You had to tell everyone who came through the front door that puppy had nipples and a gina. And even though you knew that daddy has boy parts, not girl parts, when he tripped over the baby gate and hurt himself you made your first naughty joke, “You OK, Daddy? You hurt your gina?” and while Chris and I were still trying to figure out if you knew what you were saying, you slid off your rocking chair laughing so at your own joke.
Yes, boy parts and girl parts have had a big impact on you this year. In terms of drawing, you didn’t really progress beyond squiggles, wiggles, and French fries until you were almost three. Then one day, you came down from a nap, plunked yourself on the floor in the office, drew a picture and said “Look, Daddy, a monster with tall legs!” And amazingly enough, it was a monster, complete with circles for eyes and a straight line for a mouth, and long legs. Your dad and I were amazed since you’d never drawn anything like it before and asked you to draw another one. You politely refused and said “I’m going to draw this instead.”
When you were done drawing, you showed us your picture. “Is that a monster?” we asked, a little disappointed that it looked nothing like the first picture, but none the less ready to dole out the praise. “Nope, it’s a lil boy poopin…see his pink part?” And it was a remarkably accurate drawing of the male anatomy. I gave your father a pleading look not to laugh, and he managed to hold it together until after you left the room. He was very proud of you. Although I was also suitably impressed, I had visions of explaining to you that some things we should save to draw at home and not in church. Why would that be an issue? Well, some of the things I’ve had to say in church this year include “Yee-haw, honey (not Ji’had)” or “Ocean, Z, it’s Oh-SHIN.” And my favorite “Truck, honey…with a T. Ttttuuurrrrrrrrr-uck.”
Speaking of church…this whole religion thing has been kind of difficult for you to grasp. We go to church and we sing songs. That’s fun, right? Then this guy stands up there and talks, and that’s kind of boring, and also the best time to get mom’s attention since I’m not busy singing. But then Christmas rolls around…and there’s this magic guy who can apparently spy on you to know if you’ve been naughty or nice…kinda like Jesus… and well, we sing songs about him too…and you’ve seen him, a couple of times, actually, at the mall, at the grocery store, at the unit where Daddy drills. I mean, you can’t really miss him, he’s there in a big red suit…and then Christmas day rolls around and he left you these AWESOME gifts! Is it any wonder that when the sirens go off and you say “Say a prayer, mumma, say a prayer so that those little guys don’t gunna get hurt.” And I do, and I end it with “in Jesus name we pray.” Your reaction is an immediate and enthusiastic fit because I’m praying to the worng deity…again… “Nooo! Ask SANTA! Not Jesus, ask SAAAAAAANNNNNNNTTTAAAAAA!”
I think you’ve finally given up chiming in “And Santa” at the end of bedtime prayers. You also gave up your crib and most of your afternoon naps. This has made things difficult between us sometimes. You see, you still really need a nap, you just don’t want to take one. As a result, you will go from happy to apoplectic toddler sized tantrum-seizures in less than ten seconds. I’m still trying to figure out how to cope with those.
You used to crawl into bed with me every morning when you woke up. Now, you stop at my bedroom door long enough to close it (in a way that you think is quiet and sneaky because, honestly, I’m just pretending to be asleep because I love watching you try out your different stealth tactics). You trundle down the hall and spend a few moments unsupervised…a prospect that terrifies everyone who knows you.
Unsupervised is not a state you should be in right now. One memorable occasion when I thought you were playing quietly upstairs in your bedroom, you were actually dismantling the vacuum cleaner just to see how it worked. I have learned that it takes you less than 10 minutes to create an Alice in Wonderland pile of throw pillows, toys, and couch cushions to make your way over the baby gate to the kitchen where you can monkey climb up the pull out drawers to the counter and put DVDs in the toaster to watch them melt. Watching fire safety videos only seems to be effective for about a week.
You’ve “cooked” breakfast for the cats which included dish soap in their water dish and flour in their food bowl. You cannot pass a dishwasher without pushing the start button in much the same way you cannot be out in public without wanting to use every bathroom…several times…just to make sure it works the same as. “See, it has a drain, mumma. There’s a toilet and a sink, mumma. Will the roll-it paper (toilet paper) go down the drain? Will that toilet get broken?”
Ah, yes…the amount of things you have flushed down the toilet to see what will flush and what will not has kept me on my toes all year. Cardboard, toilet paper, bottle caps, and shampoo all flush. Shampoo is the most fun because it will suds up. Rubber duckies will not flush. But, while mom is in the shower, you can climb into the kitchen, steal the soup ladel, then make chicken soup in the toilet using rubber ducks and shampoo. You will line your rubber ducks up, tell them they are in time out for peeping in the bathtub (going potty), then ask them which one is going to make chicken soup. You play so well by yourself and with other children.
You have a surprising amount of friends for a child who doesn’t go to daycare. There were 11 children at your birthday party and we had three of your friends that weren’t even able to make it. The part that your father and I get a kick out of is that every single girl you spend time with is blonde! Even Grandpa has noticed that you gravitate toward the toe-heads.
Grandpa is still one of your best friends. And I am so thankful for the time you’ve been able to spend with him. A year ago at this time…well, things seemed far less certain. It’s been nothing short of a miracle that has kept him in our lives. You are so lucky to be able to go on tractor rides with Grandpa and help make cakes with Grandma. I will never forget that overwhelming joy and gratitude I felt watching you catch lightning bugs in jelly jars with Grandma and picking wild blackberries with Grandpa last summer. You and Grandpa walk all around the yard checking on the status of things. Wild mulberries and blackberries growing at the edge of the property line. Pumpkins growing in the garden. Flowers, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, sweet corn, Grandpa and Grandma have shown you the miracle of how things grow from the soil and then feed our bodies so we can grow big and strong.
This year, you have your own garden. It’s a little corner of Grandpa’s, but you’ve already planted radishes in it. You helped transplant the tomatoes into bigger pots, and the sunflowers too. You’re not the most delicate yet, but you are far less ham-fisted than you were last year. You have so much love for all things, plants, animals, music, books. You would still rather be read to than watch TV. I could go on for fifty more pages recounting all the amazing things you’ve done. Instead, I’ll end here with a list of your favorites.
Song: You call it the Big Bang song. The rest of us call it “In the Hall of the Mountain King” from Peer Gynt. You will listen to it as many times as I will play it for you and still cry when after 30 minutes I’ve had enough and play something else.
Book: Fox in Socks by Dr. Seuss. I’m glad you like it, but I hope you find a new book to like soon because both your father and I have a terrible time reading that book.
Game: You like to “cook” with your play kitchen. You like to play musical instruments. You have empty paper towel rolls and candle holders that you have made into your trumpets. You have a recorder that was possible the worst decision I could have made since it causes me no end of ear splitting headaches, but you call it your flute or your whistle and you love it. You have turned many pots and storage containers into drums and beat on them with wooden spoons, but Auntie Michelle finally bought you a real one (bless her) and you love it. And your klanger-banger that you’ve had since you were six months old (piano/xylophone).
Activity: You much prefer gymnastics over church and playground. I think specifically, the trampoline.
Food: Dora or Scooby snacks. You don’t really have a favorite meal. You’ve been known to ask for spinach salads and yogurt for dinner as well as hot dogs and macaroni. You try most foods and you like most foods unless they have a funny texture. You’re not a fan of shrimp and you’re not a fan of squash soup. So far, those are the only two foods you will not eat.
Movie: Toy Story 3. When you first got your glasses, that movie came out in 3D. I took you to the theater to show you that everybody wears glasses and it’s really cool. You went on to break 4 pairs of glasses, once completely beyond repair, and lost two pairs entirely. The number of money and time we’ve spent at the optometrist’s this year is probably enough to cover one semester of college. Remember that when you spend your tuition money on beer instead. Also Harry Potter. You love harry Potter almost as much as “Light Buzz Year” and Woody.
You’re really starting to get this human thing figured out. You’ve moved from not quite a baby, yet not quite a child, into a full blown little boy. You’re a real little person now. You express your emotions, your fears, your wishes. You show love and compassion along with mischief and curiosity. I can’t wait to see what Three will bring.
