Month 39

Dear Olivia,

Your fourth Christmas has come and gone and as sad as I am for the holidays to be over, there is also a sense of relief to finally get you back on some kind of schedule.  There was a brief time when you would wake up and the first thing you would ask is, "Where am I opening presents today?"  It's true you cried hysterically when it was announced the last gift was being opened and at that moment, I vowed you would volunteer somehow at a future Christmas to learn how much you have and what little others don't.  Christmas quickly becomes all about the presents and it's not your fault you think this.  I know many adults who still center the holiday around the idea of presents but I really did try this year to make the month of December more about being with family.  The advent calender proved to be quite successful and your Father would hate to admit it but he actually enjoyed Christmas this year.  I was quite ambitious with one of our outings when I decided the entire family would go ice skating.  I'm never really sure how you're going to react to new things so we approached it carefully and tried our best not to scare you in our explanation.  I haven't ice skated in over a decade and your Dad has never so it would be a learning experience for us as well.  We took turns gingerly shuffling around the rink keeping you in a firm grasp in front of us and you loved it.  You weren't scared at all and you even demanded we let go of your hands so you could hold on to the edge yourself.  I think I was more terrified than I originally thought because when I stepped off the ice and relaxed, I realized I had been clenching my butt cheeks for a solid thirty minutes.

As I mentioned earlier, I can never be certain how you're going to react to something.  This year for Christmas, I wanted to buy you your first big girl bike.  You've been doing so awesome with your balance bike and you always make the observation that other kids have pedals on their bikes and you do not.  I took this as the sure tell sign that you were ready.  I found the perfect little bike complete with handle bar streamers and a little bag to keep all your rocks and trash you pick up along the way.  I was certain you were going to love it.  I saved it as your last gift and you opened it with little reaction.  You quickly pushed it aside and continued to play with some blocks on the floor.  I was slightly perplexed at your reaction because come on, what kid doesn't like a bike!  I made you go outside to try it out and all the while, you're not saying very much.  I place you on the bike while exclaiming what an awesome bike it is.  Obviously, I'm trying to sell this bike to someone who is clearly not interested.  You start crying that it's too big and you want off.  In all honesty, your feet can't quite touch the ground but you're the kid who just took to ice skates.  In my eyes, ice skating is far more terrifying - my ass can speak to that.  Anyways, you made your proclamation that you do not like the bike so in the garage this pretty little bike sits awaiting for the day you get over your fears.  I bring it out every time we're outside to see if you have had a change of heart but you remind me that that bike is not for you.

You're still loving preschool and sometimes I get a thorough explanation of your day i.e. songs you sang, crafts you did, kids you played with and I usually hear the same four or five names of children you seem to play with on a regular basis.  There is one child in particular who I hear a lot about.  Bella.  When I drop you off in the classroom, I hear her name being bellowed from your teachers followed by a firm 'no thank you.' At school events, I hear her name from her parents trying to coerce her in to the classroom.  When I pick you up from school, she is typically the defiant child who has to be pulled from the slides when she refuses for the umpteenth time not to come in to class.  So it was really no surprise when I learned a fellow classmate horribly scratched you across the cheek at snack time.  The teachers are not allowed to divulge the information as to who the evil little devil was but lucky for me, you're going through a bit of a taddle phase.  I'm a protective parent so naturally I want to take revenge on a three year old demonic child who lays a hand on my child.  I can't give specifics of what I've been fantasizing about but it may involve wedgies and some slight hair pulling. 

I have started a little habit of laying with you in your bed for five minutes or so when you go to bed at night.  It's not one of those parenting things where I have to lay with you until you fall asleep and you know I only do it when you're good.  You ask me several times throughout the day if I will lay with you that night.  I started doing it as a way to have a few minutes of one-on-one undisturbed time with you where you could tell me anything you want.  These are usually the times I hear the lovely stories of Bella but I hear a little bit about everything that encompasses a three year old's life.  You tell me what you enjoyed most about the day, what you want to do the following day, things that made you sad, happy and so on.  When our few minutes are up, you take my face in your little hands and give me an Eskimo kiss.  Occasionally as I leave the room, I hear your little voice say, "Momma, thank you for laying with me."  AAAAH!  That's not even fair!  And I quickly realize that I will be easily manipulated by your words if you choose the right words correctly.  It's ok, I'm a sucker for mushy moments, especially with you.

Love,

Momma

Month 14, Version 2.0

Dear Miles,

I have made the realization that you understand quite a bit more than I give you credit for.  Your vocabulary is still nil but you have some how grasped the idea of torment and vengeance.  I remember all those days we warned Olivia to stop tormenting you because there would come a day that you would understand vengeance and there wasn't a damn thing we were going to do to stop it.  Well, that day has come.  You enjoy walking around the house with your golf club like it's a scepter and you proceed to follow Olivia and wave it around in her face.  She places a toy on a table, you walk over with your scepter and knock it down.  She proudly stacks blocks to an impressive height and you proudly walk over and knock it down.  Olivia goes to the bathroom and while she seeks privacy, you seek an opportunity to torment her with a golf club while she sits vulnerable on a toilet.  Little did I know that I would all ready being hearing the words, "Mom, please call Miles - I need my privacy!"  Oh Miles, you are going to bring a whole new meaning to the title, royal pain.  Your constant need to tease and destroy comes from a long lineage of fellow harassers.  Your Great-Grandfather was a Granddaddy of non-stop verbal teasing and your Grandpa is quite similar.  Growing up, I quickly learned that to tolerate a pestering family member, one would have to become a master at patience and tuning out outside noises or become a master of annoyance.  Patience has never been my strong suit so I picked up on the latter of the two.  It would make perfect sense that my offspring would continue on with this legacy. 

Like I mentioned earlier, your vocabulary is still rather slim.  You say Momma, Dada, and that.  'That' is the word du jour of the moment.  You say it over and over as you point in a general direction and I spend a good ten minutes figuring out what ever it is that has caught your attention.  I remember when Olivia was this age, her vocabulary was also rather small - she too only said a total of three words and I remember panicking because I would see other children her age clearly vocalizing cat, dog, baby and I remember clearly thinking what a bunch of over achiever babies there were in the world.  I'm not worrying about you because your sister talks enough for the both of you and I know one day, you too will probably talk my ear off if I haven't already cut them off. 

This is a trying age because you're mobile but still unable to voice your needs and wants so there is a lot of frustration being exhibited on both our parts.  You are still incredibly clingy and never ever leave my side unless I actually pick you up and place you on the other side of the baby gate so I can attempt to clean a toilet without you interpreting it as playtime in the potty.  Life with a needy toddler can be both physically and emotionally draining but there are moments when I put all my responsibilities aside and I sit on the floor to just be with you.  You hear the ever so faint sound of my derriere hitting carpet and you come running from the far corner of the house with a huge smile.  A smile so big that makes me forget every hardship we had to overcome that day.  You run as fast as your chubby little legs can carry you and dive head first in to my lap where you proceed to nuzzle in for the night.  This is heaven to me.  You seem to consider this "our" thing because when Olivia attempts to sit in my lap, you swing at her and run away crying.  Yes, your tantrums still involve you running away and crying.  You typically return a few minutes later to see if the situation has improved any and if it hasn't, you run away again with tears bigger than golf balls. 

In addition to the simple pleasure of having you lounge in my lap is allowing you to run around naked before your bath.  Only a parent can do this because obviously if another person is watching my child prance around naked, we have a problem.  As a Mother though, this is my right and I exercise it religiously.  I find nothing cuter than watching a disproportioned cute chubby baby discover the thrill of being naked.  For what ever reason, when you're naked, you love to stomp your feet like an adorable midget sumo wrestler.  Of course, we have had the occasional naked accidents which include you being so excited that you ran in to the bathroom and slipped and hit your head on the ground and the other time you were also excited and peed all over the non-absorbent Ikea bath mat which you then proceeded to splash in.  You're probably thinking to youself, why did I allow you to splash in your own puddle of pee but little do you understand that babies are super fast.  I was literally standing within steps of you brushing Liv's teeth and in the moment I realized you were peeing all over yourself and the floor, you were already having a pool party.

Christmas is less than a week away and I can promise you it will be a whole lot better than your first Christmas - you know, the Christmas that almost wasn't because of your little health scare that landed us in Children's Hospital for far too long.  I don't care if you're vomiting glitter and sprinkles, we're not going to any hospital until after Christmas so save the drama for then.  We paid a visit to the mall Santa and as expected, you hated Santa but flirted a bit with the Asian elf.  You're a ladykiller and I will never be prepared for the amount of attention I expect you to receive from girls.  No girl will ever be good enough for you so don't even bother bringing them around.  Please stay my little Tiger Bear forever.  Please? 

Love,

Momma