Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Thirty-Nine Months: My Letter to Little Man

This is one of the first times this letter has been late. I guess you can blame the fact you're no longer an only child on that. I realized last night at 10:45 p.m. that it was your birth day, and that I'd completely forgotten. Aren't you glad we got you that baby brother? You know, the one who can't do all of the things you ask me to let him do with you, like take a bath, have a sleepover in your room, jump in your bounce house or dance around with you to the Imagination Movers.

You're getting so big, that I wonder when you turned into a grown up on me. The other day, I kissed you as I was getting you out of your car seat. You shook your head at me and said "you can't kiss me anymore, Mama. I'm a boy now. You could only kiss me when I was a girl, but now that I'm a boy, you can't kiss me anymore." I'm not sure when you were a girl, but I sure liked it better than, when I could impulsively kiss you any time I wanted. Because this whole not kissing you thing? I thought I was in the clear for that until you were at least in middle school.

You are still extremely sweet though. Last week, I accidentally knocked over six ounces of milk I had just pumped. All that liquid gold for your baby brother was all over the counter and the floor, and I was so upset that I was near tears. You noticed and started patting my side saying "it's okay, Mama, it's okay. Please don't cry, I'll play my guitar for you." And you know what? You did make me feel better. You stopped me from crying. All three-feet of you and your crazy guitar playing.

Your new obsession is your avent calendar, which you refuse to call a calendar, but instead you call it "That Game." Because how can it be anything else but a game, when it involves the tearing of cardboard doors that hide a chocolate treat? For the past two nights now, you try to negotiate with me "how about we open three doors tonight, Mama? OK, how about five doors then?" When I told you that we were going to bake some cookies this weekend and deliver them to the nearest fire station as our "spreading the holiday cheer" project, you told me that you also wanted to bring That Game and show it to the firefighters, and then you told me you were going to open six doors with the firefighters, show them the treats and then eat them all. Merry freaking Christmas to you too, kid.

Speaking of negotiations, we've now resorted to something I never thought I'd ever do, and that's the requests for you to eat three more bites of vegetables and two more bites of meat. I always said I'd never be one of those mothers, because all of the articles state that this is the best way to raise a child to become an obese adult. But if I didn't do this, on most nights, you'd happily dine on just a glass of milk and air. I don't care if you've eaten well at school and had a good snack, you just can't go to bed without some food in your stomach, and the one night I decided to let you get up after not eating, you demanded food in your bath, telling me that you're starving.

So now, every night you take one bite of your food and then tell me you're done. And then we negotiate, which I must say is a ton of fun for me, because you're the worst negotiator I've ever met. "Little Man, eat two bites of meat and three bites of vegetables." "How about I eat four bites of vegetables and five bites of meat?" "Uhm, ok, you have a deal." I must sign you up for a negotiation class before you enter the adult world, because I'd hate for you to walk into a job interview and have this scenario occur: "Mr. Little Man, we'd like to offer you 200,000 dollars a year plus bonuses." "How about you pay me minimum wage and give me cookies instead of bonuses?"

You're probably wondering why so many of your pictures involve you not wearing pants. That would be simply because the second you get home, you tend to take your pants off. I have to admit that you probably get that from me, since I'm much happier without pants. However, as my mini me, you don't yet know the limits of pantlessness and have asked me if you could take your pants off in highly inappropriate places, like at your grandparents' or at the grocery store. We must work on this so that you don't end up arrested for public nudity by the time you're in college.

You love your baby brother so much that sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am. Your favorite activities right now include helping me give him a bath, and you're better at getting him to take his pacifier when he's upset than I am, even if you've given it to him upside down or sideways on more than one occasion. You give him these bone crushing hugs and tell him all of your secrets. When he cries in the car, you talk to him, trying to reassure him and it always brings a smile to my face.

You're one of the most caring, gentle souls I've ever met. I hope you never lose that, because every day, I wish I were more like you. You're extremely sensitive and lately, when you've been acting up and I send you to time alone, you sit on the stair wailing "I WANT TO BE A GOOD BOY!!!!", reminding me of Pinocchio and I have to admit, and this is where you realize what a horrible person I am, it makes me giggle every time.

And if you did know, I know you'd say to me, like you do at least twice a day "it's not funny, Mama." The thing is? You are funny. You continue to be the funniest person I know. And I don't foresee that changing any time soon.

I love you my Little Man,


10 comments: said...

I think you have bottle brain, toots. Cause I hope he has an advent calendar and not an avent one. Hee hee. See you tomorrow night. Knute's pumped to see his buddy.

word verfication: cupshade

Rachel said...

What the hell is it about the pants??? Alyssa does that too! Is it an age thing? Hell, sometimes she doesn't even bother to keep the shirt on.

Bren said...

Ok, he is too cute! In that last pic, he looks like he's grown taller.

Emma in Canada said...

Saoirse and Sophie aren't pant wearers either. I fact, Sophie spends most days partially or fully nude.

Once again, loved the letter!

Burgh Baby said...

Yeah, my kid won't wear pants either, but that's because she has to wear dresses or her head will explode. Too bad that won't work for Little Man.

Kila said...

Oh my goodness, he is so adorable, and what a fun age he is at. Your letter nearly made me teary-eyed.

Oh, and I still kiss my oldest boy, age 11 1/2, several times per day, whether he protests or not (not in public, though, lest I scar his reputation for life).

Stefanie said...

That was the sweetest letter ever. BTW, I'm not wearing any pants right now.

tara @ kidz said...

Just stopping by through blogsbywomen and I'm glad I did! I love your blog. Such a sweet letter to your little man! =)

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