The not-as-good
This. Still this.
Every cut, scratch, scrape, fall, etc., is the Most Dramatic Thing That Has Ever Happened and Cue All the Tears.
Eveyrthing in life takes at least 10 minutes even things that should take no more than 10 seconds. Things like walking to the car, brushing teeth, throwing something in the trash, picking up a book, joining me in the other room, answering a question.
He would like to do it himself unless he can actually do it himself or I'm driving and then he wants all the help.
He says "Oops! It was an accident!" a lot. (So, papertowels. We use more this age.)
Three words: Bedtime Stall Tactics. Some more words: "Mommy, I think I'd rather sleep with my eyes open on the couch tonight. Okay?" "Noooooooooot okay."
His filter and volume control aren't quite developed yet, obviously, so there are a lot of shouting questions like "WHY IS THAT PERSON SO BIG?" "MOMMY, WHY IS THAT GIRL'S HAIR SO CRAZY!" Sorry my child just ruined your day and your self-esteem!
The good
He has started playing independently more often. Not that I want him to usher me out of his room all the time, but he just goes in there, plays by himself, and then (get this) cleans up after himself when he's done.
He dramatically fake laughs at my jokes, and that's funnier than anything I could ever say.
He is proud of himself when he does something new or brave. He recently started a Little Gym class and was skittish and shy the first class but this past week, he was a rockstar. At the end of class, he burst through the door and shouted "MOMMY, I DID SO GOOD." I nearly died. On the spot. Of awesome pride over that kid.
Sitting somewhere for an extended period of time is possible now. We went to breakfast the other morning with friends, and he sat through most of it. We went to Mike's hockey game over the weekend (an hour+) and he sat through all of it. I didn't believe this day would ever come.
He is potty trained. (Has been, but I forgot to really talk about it.) I basically roll around in the money we're saving at the end of every day. Actually that's a lie, we've just re-invested that money into bathroom cleaning products, ahem.
He says "I love you" and not just in response to us saying it, which he's done for a while. He says it on his own. The other morning, he woke up, climbed into our bed to snuggle a minute, and said, "I love you, Mommy." The other night when I got home from work and leaned down to kiss his head, he said, "I love you, Mommy! Welcome home!" He will stop saying it one day, sure, but three is so generous with the love. I want to remember that.
He tells these elaborate, don't-make-a-bit-of-sense stories, and I love them so much.
He asks the best questions. "Mommy, who made this house for us?" "Mommy, why doesn't Molly have a car?" (Well, she's never gotten a job FOR ONE.) "Mommy, don't you think we should dance more often?"
Just like the ages that came before, his smile tops the good column, too.
So much more good. Always so much good.
