It is very hard to believe that you’ll be three years old
next month, my love. It doesn’t seem like it’s been three whole years since
you came into our lives, and at the same time, we can’t picture our lives
without you.
We had a lovely Christmas, despite both your grandmothers
being out of town for the holiday.
For the first time, we left a cookie and a note for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.
I put the note on top of the cookie, but you were very concerned that Santa
might not see the cookie, so we moved the note and you were much happier about
the whole thing. The next morning, when you discovered that Santa had eaten your
cookie, it certainly made an impression, but I’m not sure you weren’t a bit
miffed.
You’ve greatly enjoyed having a fire in the fireplace. Daddy lit one on Christmas morning. You paid no attention to the sudden arrival
of presents under the tree or to the bulging stockings on the couch. You were happy to just sit on your panda stool and watch
the flames in the fireplace. We had to point out the gifts to you.
You are a very lucky little boy - people were very generous. We opened gifts over the
course of the day (and in fact, over the course of the holiday), and we were
very gratified to see that gift-opening never lost its charm for you. You were
never complacent, always grateful and pleased with your gift, and happy to
thank the person who brought it for you. (Your reactions were also awesome. “Oh
wow!” “How lovely!”) We had a late Christmas celebration with Granny and
Grandma, so just when it seemed that the gift opening was finished, there were
more to open! A week after Christmas, when you finally opened your last gift, we
told you this was the very last present under the tree. You opened it, enjoyed
it, thanked Granny, and then wrapped it all back up again and put it under the
tree so you could do the whole thing again the next day.
Mark and Janine had a lovely little pre-Christmas celebration
with you. They brought you a whole whack of crafting supplies! You literally
covered yourself in them and laughed, rolling joyfully like a strange little
lottery winner rolling in dollar bills. Except you were rolling in packages of
foam shapes. You had a wonderful cuddle with Uncle Mark (you melted his heart),
and then you were quite happy to have Aunt Janine carry you upstairs for your
nap. You put your head on her shoulder and sighed contentedly. And then, after
they left, and I was rocking you in the rocking chair, you suddenly said, “I
love Uncle Mark, Mummy.” (Aunt Janine is still green with envy over that one.)
You greatly enjoyed meeting a few new playmates over the
holiday. We went to Kanata to visit some old friends, and you met a little boy
named Damian, who is a year older than you are. You both played very well
together, and I was proud of you. We also had a great visit with Ruben and
Jessie, who live in Newfoundland but who come to Ottawa occasionally to visit
their grandparents. Jessie and Ruben’s daddy grew up with your Daddy, and they
played together when they were your age. It was wonderful to watch you play
with Jessie and Ruben. We wish they lived closer so we could all play together
more often.
The month wasn’t without illness. I brought you to work with
me on Christmas Eve morning, as is my workplace tradition. You had a nice time,
but you didn’t really seem to be yourself. That evening, you were sick to your
stomach several times. Over the next day or so, it became clear that you had
the flu – coughing, chills, fever, and generally feeling horrible. Then Daddy
got it. Then Daddy’s flu got better, but he got strep throat. Then I got strep
throat. It was a pretty rotten holiday, health-wise, but you helped us create
some lovely memories in between feeling terrible.
A sore throat and a cough meant that you got a lot of
spoonfuls of honey, and you turned into a little honey monster. Even well after
you got over your cough, the requests for honey continued. We had to wean you
off of it – you were like a little twitchy Pooh Bear.
Speaking
of Pooh Bear, we introduced you to The Tigger Movie this month. It’s the story
of how Tigger goes looking for his family, only to realize that his friends are
actually his family. We had some nice discussions about chosen family, which is
a topic very close to our hearts. So you started asking about who your family
is. You would look at me suddenly and ask, “Mummy, are you my family?” and I
would reassure you that, yes, I am. A few days later, we went to Uncle Ted’s
house for a breakfast party. I was pointing out all the people there who are
our “chosen family”. When Aunt Jen picked you up for a hug, you asked me, “Is
she my family, Mummy?” and I told you that she was indeed. You looked right at
her and said, “I love you.” I don’t think she’s been quite the same since then.
Then you looked at Uncle Ted’s mom, Ginny, and informed her that she was your
family. That wasn’t even a question, apparently. We are inclined to agree. (It
may have had something to do with the fact that she gave you your first whipped
cream beater.)
One
change that has occurred over the past month, really only in the past couple of
weeks, is that you call me “Mummy” a lot less and call me “Mom” a lot more. It
made me really sad at first because I wasn’t expecting the change this soon,
but I’m getting used to it, and it just makes me enjoy the “Mummy” moments even
more, when they do happen.
We’ve
given a word to one of our newest challenges: dilly-dallying. You have learned
what it is, and that we really don’t like it when you do it. We are currently
trying to recover from the inevitable post-holiday behavioural backslide, and
we are focusing on a couple of things, including not dilly-dallying. We are
also focusing on doing one thing at a time. If you are playing with the tablet,
the TV will be turned off. If you want to play with Play-doh, your cars have to
be put away. We are also scaling way back on the TV – when we were all sick
over the holiday, things got kind of out of control.
Your
concept of time is interesting. Anything in the recent past happened “this
morning”. Anything in the farther past happened “when I was bigger” (by which I
think you mean “when I was smaller” or “before I was bigger”). Another sentence
you’ve picked up is, “We don’t often go there,” when talking about any
destination. For example, I’ll say, “Why don’t we go to the library today?” and
you’ll say, nodding thoughtfully, “We don’t often go there.” (We go about once
a month.)
You’ve also picked up on the fact that there is something that makes girls and boys different from each other. You told me quite earnestly the other day that you are a man, and I am a woman. You were not interested in hearing my correction that you are a boy. You were adamant. “I a MAN, Mummy. I a man.” Ok, then.
We
do call you our Little Man. And we love you so much. You are a delight to spend
time with, a pleasure to bring to visit people, and even though being
almost-but-not-quite three is bringing all kinds of new challenges, you are
still an amazing little person who brings joy to everyone he meets.
