Letter to our 35 month old

Dear William,

On 11/08/2014 you turned 35 months old. Or, put another way, one more month and you’ll be three. Like 1, 2, 3. In one month, you will have been on this planet, as your own independent little being, for three whole years. For some reason, this is hitting me harder than your two year birthday. I’ve been thinking back to three years ago and how impatient I was at this point in my pregnancy to meet you, and yet how badly I wanted to savor the last bits of my pregnancy with you because I knew it would likely be my only pregnancy.

Stats and Developments:
Weight: 40.5 pounds
Height: 41″ tall
Size clothing: 4T in pants, 4T in shorts; 5T in pajamas (including footed sleepers); 5T in shirts.

You have really been into singing songs this month, and it was quite the surprise driving up to the mountains to hear you suddenly start singing “Joy to the World” and “Oh Tannenbaum.”

Something I’ve started doing different this month is the transition out of the bath tub.  Before, I was cleaning you up immediately when you got in the tub, then setting a timer and it would repeatedly go off and you would negotiate for more time.  I did it that way because I was afraid you would poop in the tub.  This month, I realized that the timer was causing us a great deal of stress and I was dreading bath time.

Since you go potty before you get in the tub, and will ask to get out of the tub if you need to go, I decided to implement a  change.  Now, I put you in and let you play while I get ready for bed.  Your father will go in and paint you and the tub walls with bath paints.  You play independently for awhile.  Then, I come in and clean you up, you put your toys away and stand up, and that is the determining factor of getting you out of the tub.  I have started using “character” wash cloths and you interact with them, and having “them” clean  you up takes the stress off of me.  We had one night early on where you tried to negotiate for more play time and I stayed firm, and it hasn’t been an issue since. Bath time is now a fun time for both of us.  I’m so, so glad that we’ve implemented this change!

Things we did this month:
10/11 – Spooktacular Halloween event at The Great OC Park (picked pumpkin, trick-or-treated vendors & rode in the Big Pumpkin Balloon
10/12 – professional photo shoot
10/18 – spaghetti dinner at church
10/25 – Miracle Babies Reunion with Dr. Werlin
10/31 – Halloween, trick-or-treated your daddy’s work and our neighborhood. You were Spiderman, costume chosen by you
11/1 – Big Bear weekend for my birthday
11/8 – Day Out With Thomas at the Railroad Museum in Perris, CA

Recurring events:
Gymnastics class: Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays
Library Story time: Mondays and Wednesdays

Sleep:
You’re back to inconsistent naps this month. About every third day you take a nap. If we’re out and about, then you skip it. I’m toying with the idea of just having you give up your nap because half the time, you fall asleep nursing at nap time, but if I dare to attempt to transfer you, you wake up and freak out. Soooo, it’s a whole lotta work to go through all the nap preparation just to have it fail. I’d rather just keep going about our day than to rush home for a failed nap routine.

Nourishment:
You’ve been eating well this past month, and we continue to nurse. This month, I’ve noticed a decrease in your nursing, though. You aren’t nursing for as long as you used to, and you’ve (sometimes) taken to outright declining to nurse if I offer. Your favorite nursing times appear to be when you first wake up, for your nap (or around lunch time), and before bed.

You love (what you call) banana treats (oatmeal, bananas, peanut butter, flaxseed, sandwiched between graham crackers and frozen).

You get two chocolate chips if you (1) take a nap, (2) nurse well when I get home, and (3) if you go potty at 5pm.

Favorite Books:
Mighty Dads
Thomas Books
Where is Baby’s Mommy
Belly Button book
Devotion book
Things I want to remember:
We bought you a bottle of Smart brand water, and it was the cutest thing to hear you requesting, “May I have my Smart water, please?”

You think saying “Your butt!” is hilarious. I take full blame for this, because whenever your father (or anyone, really) asks where something is, or where I would like something, I say, “Your butt!”

If we’re doing something or eating something, you’ll say, “I want to ______, too.” One night I was chewing some gum and you said, “I want chewing gum, too.” I said, “You can do that when you’re older.” You replied, “I’m older now!”

For a couple weeks at MyGym, you wanted to play tag with other kids, so you would randomly run up to them and touch them, turn around and run. Your Grandma D. was concerned about that behavior, but I figured it would be over with in a couple weeks, and it was. She says you appear to have stopped doing it.

One day, I asked you, “What are all your trains doing on my desk?”  You replied, “They’re carrying lemonade!”

One day you were putting all your trains in my printer and you informed me, “They’re in the elevator.”

If I ask you, “Are you making a mess?”  You’ll tell me, “It’s just a little bit of a mess.”

If I tell you it’s time to go upstairs for your bath, I never know what I’m going to get in response.  One night, you replied, “Oh, I can’t! I’m watching football right now.”  The next night, I heard, “I’m sitting on the couch reading my Cars book right now.”

Mindlessly singing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star to myself while putting laundry away, I heard you in the bath tub, “Excuse me, mommy? Ummm, mommy? Excuse me? Excuse me, mommy?”  I replied, “Yes, William?”  You said, “Mommy, were you… were you putting daddy to bed?”

Last couple months, if ask you, “Did you go potty?” Or anything about time, you’ll say, “Yes, at Eight-thirty!”

If I ask you how much something costs, you reply, “Twenty-five dollars!”

Wresting one morning, you said, “Boo!” I said, “Ahhh, I’m scared of you.” You took my face in your hands and said, “Don’t be scared of me, mommy. I’m just William.”

Anytime you pick your nose, you tell me, “I’m going to China!”

Running across the field, your father hollered, “Hey, where are you going?”  You replied, “I’m going over here to fart!”

While in line for something, you can be heard to say, “I’m not waiting…” even though you most definitely are waiting. What that means to me is that in your head you’re already there, and you are verbally rebelling against something you physically have to do.  Or, in other words, you’re saying,  “I don’t want to wait!”

Another morning while wrestling, I cautioned you to be careful that you don’t fall down and break your crown.  You said, “I want to break my crown.”  You fake fell down and then popped up and said, “Oh, mommy!  I don’t want to break my crown!”  I said, “I don’t want you to either!”  Curious to see what you’d say, I asked, “What happens if you break your crown?”  You replied, “I can’t do anything.”  I said, “That’s true.  What happens if you break your butt?”  You said, “Then I can’t poop!”  I said, “That’s right!  And what if you break your nose?”  You replied, “I can’t breathe!  And if I break my leg, then I can’t walk!” Probably not the most positive way of linking body parts to functions, but I was amazed that you knew all those things.

When we say we’re going to Chick-Fil-A, you have your order ready, you’ll say, “I want some little chicken sandwiches and a little cup of oil.”

At Dr. Werlin’s reunion, you got ahold of your father’s Caprison.  When he turned around and saw it, you had set it back on the table and exclaimed, “Mmmmmm, that was really good!”

You have regrettably discovered drinking out of the bathtub faucet… you used to just turn it on to give your toys a “car wash,” then one day last week you started drinking out of it. Your father told you it was OK. So now when I get in there, you look like an overfull water balloon.

I’ve been using Bath & Body Works vanilla bean lotion. One morning, you walked up to me and licked my arm and told me, “You smell like vanilla and taste like ice cream.”

At dinner the other night, we went to Chili’s. I took you to the bathroom and they had some really cool music playing in there. You were sitting there doing your business and “chair” dancing on the toilet. You danced your way through washing & drying your hands and when you were done, you said you didn’t want to leave. So we waited for the song to end and went back to the table. A new song came on, you got up and high-tailed it down the aisle. I followed you and asked you to stop and you said, “I wanna go in the bathroom and dance!”

Also, the baseball game was on the TV in the bar and everyone roared with excitement. You told them, “Hey, be quiet! We’re in a restaurant!”

The next day, driving in the car, you said, “Excuse me, I want you to turn some music on so I can dance!”

We attended Dr. Werlin’s reunion and grabbed a couple of extra snacks that were offered there for your snack bag. The next morning I offered you one and you said, “Yes! That’s from my special day!”

One morning, I told you I was being lazy and didn’t want to get up.  A bit later, you flopped yourself on the couch and asked me, “Now who’s being lazy?”  And then you answered your own question with, “William is!”

When we were in our mountain cabin, you were watching a Thomas DVD while your father was cleaning and scraping out the fireplace in preparation to leave.  It was quite loud, and you politely said, “Excuse me, daddy, I’m trying to watch Thomas.”

Your love for Cars has been taken to an extreme level this past month.  If you’re eating broccoli, you call it cactus.  If we change your clothes, you’re getting a new paint job. If you put your shoes on, we’re putting wheels on you. Your socks are shocks. If you drink water, it’s drinking oil. If we’re dressing you, Mater/Sally is working on Lightning. Brushing teeth, cleaning your grill. Putting lotion on, we’re waxing you.

Again with the Cars theme, you identify the colors on everything and will say, “The green fish is not pretty.. the blue and red fish are pretty.” Apparently, the green fish is Chick Hicks, and the red fish is Lightning and the blue fish is The King.

Something you started doing just this month is brushing my hair.  It is one of the sweetest things ever.  You spent 15-20 minutes doing that one morning.

How when you play hide-and-seek, we can call out, “Where is William?”  And you’ll reply, “I’m over here!”

One afternoon, I was cutting up chuck roast for a crockpot stew.  You came in the kitchen, looked at what I was doing and told me, “I want some watermelon, mommy.” I replied, “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t have any watermelon.”  Then I realized you must have thought the raw meat was watermelon… it was red and cubed.  So I added to my reply, “This isn’t watermelon, this is raw meat for tomorrow’s dinner.”  Without missing a beat, you innocently replied, “I want some raw meat, mommy.”  In the interest of educating you, I informed you, “We don’t eat raw meat. It could make you sick.”  Now, I *know* you know what being sick is, but that didn’t hinder you from saying, “I want to get sick, please?”

I smiled, ruffled your hair and said, “How about we get you a plum instead, or do you want to watch me cut up the meat?”  I wasn’t sure if you were hungry, or interested.  Apparently, you were both, because next thing I knew, you were munching on a plum and standing on a chair watching me.  These types of moments with you are the fun kinds of moments that I love about being your mommy.

I love your spontaneity and that I can never predict what you’re going to say or do.  Somewhere along the line of living my life, I started to find “surprises” stressful and overwhelming, instead of fun and interesting.  I love the way you surprise me every single day, and I love the impish look you get in your eyes when you’re coming up with something.

(Click to view this month’s pictures.)

Love you forever,

Momma