Soon to be three

From Collages

Three years ago this day was my due date.  It was a Sunday.  The next day started my maternity leave.  The Friday before we had decided that if he hadn't come by the weekend, we'd induce the following Thursday.  And so he came to be.

Can you believe that?  I can not.

When he was born I knew him to be mine and loved him and was amazed by him.  But to say that I loved him as much that day as I do today would be completely untrue.  He is amazing.  He is smart and kind and loving and has the best imagination.  He talks in amazing sentences and tells me fantastic stories about orange dragons that fly around his room and pirate treasure and songs that make no sense to anyone but him.  He says specatcular things like, mama that's incredible!  And Follow that truck!  Train tracks? Wierd.  Why are the train tracks weird?  I don't know.

Today on a walk around our neighborhood - that was instigated by a large tractor with a lawn mower attachment that we had to follow - he saw a bird.  He said to the bird, Bird, did you see where the tractor went?  This way?  Straight?  Thank you bird!  Bye bye!  I would not lie about such a thing.

A few steps later we came upon a rabbit.  He said the same thing to the rabbit, and he turned to me and said, Mama, the rabbit said the tractor went this way!  And he points and off he runs.

He picks up a reed and flings it over his head and says Mama!  I'm catching fish!  The fish is a nearby leaf.  He finds the bush that the reed came form and puts the reed back, whispering, goodnight reed!  And he comes back to my side and says, Mama, I put the stick in his bed.  Incredible.

We saw a man walking his dog and G says, Mama, that doggie went that way with his best friend.

To see the world with him is the highlight of my life.  These few years when he is so unabashedly excited, and enthused, by everything ... I cherish every bit of it.  And I dread the day that life shuts that part of him down, and pray that it does not.

He is the kid on the playground that asks everyone to play.  He wants to play tag.  He asks me all the time to find some kids, mama.  Because he wants to play.  He loves chase.  And hide and go seek.

He has discovered that he can shout back at mama.  He does not have to obey.  He has learned the hard way that mama is the more stubborn of the two.  But part of his nature is to please me.  He does not like it when mama is upset.  If I'm sad or angry he gets a full pout or comes next to me and pats my arm, it's okay mama.

If mama and daddy are bickering or arguing about politics or some such G says, boys boys!  Let's watch Mickey Mouse.  Or lets play this or lets do something else.  At just three he has learned the art of distraction.

His ability to memorize amazes me.  Read a book once to him and he can repeat most of it back to you. He can read Chugga Chugga Choo Choo to you verbatim.  He can read Pete's Big Lunch perfectly.

That having been said he still struggles to recognize numbers and a few letters.  I don't understand it and I work on it.

He does so well at soccer.  He listens to the coach but gets so excited to play he jumps up and is first to do whatever the coach asks.  He can stand on one foot with his other foot on the ball, and then kick the ball behind him.  He rushes up to the ball to shoot a goal.  He runs after the ball in the crowd and tries very hard to play.  He loves all aspects of games and being included and playing with others.  He is a social being.  Much likes his daddy.

His favorite game so far is golf.  He and his daddy go in the backyard and play golf and he asks his daddy to hit impossible shots.  Daddy hit it through the hole.  The hole is the diameter of the ball itself, the lookout funnel on his playground.  Daddy hit it over the house!  This one daddy accomodates, and then off they run to find the ball.

We still rush outside to see the trash man every Monday.  And I swear it's as much a thrill for the trashman as it is for G.

He is a favorite with his friends at school and his teachers are always telling me how well he listens and how he tells them "stories."

I wish I could bottle up these moments and the whole amazing adorableness that is him at this age and save it to open when he's older and getting in trouble or ignoring me or saying mean things.  But that's not the way these things work.

The mean things have already started.  He told me last weekend to stop singing because I sing bad.  Meanie.  I didn't take it too much to heart.  One, I know he's lying.  I'm no Julie Andrews but I can carry a tune.  But hearing harsh words out of his mouth is jarring.

To that end, my bad habits have taught him "shoot!" and "oh crap!".  Not the worst words in my vocabulary, but not awesome for a preschooler to be saying.

He loves his brother.  He's not fond of sharing his toys yet, which is becoming an issue, but he will find him something he is willing to share.

I know the faults of my son, I do.  I know the tantrums and I know his bad habits and I know how hard he is and will continue to be to raise as a God fearing, moral, upstanding man.  As a stay at home mom I've had every moment, practically.  You can't buy that.

I'm amazed by him.  I can not believe he's three and that I get the amazing duty of being his mama.  I worry, as all good parents do, that I'm failing him.  But every day he'll say something amazing and I think somehow I have something to do with that.

Yesterday at the dinner table he called to me in the kitchen conspiratorially, mama!  I have a plan!  Come listen.  So I went to listen.  What's the plan?  I'm going to eat all my chicken!  My mama's heart swells.  That's a very good plan G.

From Collages

His is the best thing ever.  And I don't feel bad saying that.  Because Chalupa is the best thing too, but he takes up a different spot in my heart and it's strange.  It's like compartments but they all mesh together.

From Collages

He knows his birthday is coming.  If you ask him what he wants he says a bike.  He's going to be disappointed there.  He's not getting a bike.  But he says toys after that so I think he'll get plenty of those.  How old will you be on your birthday, G?  Three.  And he holds up three fingers, making the okay sign instead of the traditional pinky to thumb movement.

He adores trains.  His train table.  Buzz Lightyear (whom he insists he is going to be for Halloween this year, again).  Tractors, trains, cars, excavators and construction sites.  He loves his books.  All manner of books.  Mickey Mouse.  Little Einsteins and Rocket the space ship.  He likes to paint.  The only thing that I am surprised about is music.  He doesn't seem to care one way or the other.  They do music at school and he sings and he sings now at home and he'll dance.  But no big affinity there.

Again as I've said ... he is brilliant and wonderful and my cup runneth over.  He is three and amazing and it's a blessing that he is here.  Oh how I prayed for him.  How I prayed for them both.

From Collages

And Chalupa.  With bed head.  I see much of me in him.  And that picture bottom right?  I see my grandfather a bit I think.  He is marvelous too.  Cute and affectionate in ways that G wasn't.  He nuzzles and cuddles and kisses.  Lately he's miserable teething.