Happy 37 Months G3

I contemplated changed the titles of these "letters" to you, Gabey, because I realize the obnoxiousness of celebrating your "37th" month...what am I going to do when you're 6--write about your 58th month? But nothing else is coming to mind and so we shall continue with the trend...happy 37th month!

The first month in your life as a 3 year old...what a whirlwind. Our crazy busy summer weeks slowly dwindled down...swimming lessons came to an end, our far-away friends flew back out west and the birthday season is over (though you keep asking, almost daily, if it's Daddy's birthday. Maybe I should have waited a bit longer to tell you "Daddy's birthday is next!")

This month has been both good and bad. The good: you've finished swimming lessons, and while you certainly don't know how to swim yet, you do have more confidence in the water and you can go underwater, a crowd-pleasing move you are never reluctant to perform. I don't know how but you instinctively learned to hold your breath--whether it was from Daddy dunking you or learning to blow bubbles in swim class I do not know. You did pretty good for a toddler in a daily lesson that was an hour long. You weren't overly fond of being taken out in the deeper water with Miss Melissa, but overall the experience benefitted you. Of course, now we have to watch you like a hawk in the bath and your kiddie pool, since you like to "practice" going underwater, but I digress...

Pretty sure you were screaming "Get me down!" but you did it anyhow!

Now for some bad...your hitting-my-friends problem has returned full-force. I feel like I've talked and written about this subject to death lately, and I don't want to clog up your sweet, nostalgic monthly letter with tales of you bludgeoning your friends but, well: its a problem. We are doing our best to handle it in the best way for you, and I know that you "get it" because when you DO do good at playdate, and I ask if you know why I am proud of you, you respond immediately with "I not hitting today!" So we will perservere with quick, consistent, and a bit more strict discipline, and try to be ample with the praise when you ARE good. Most of your aggression seems to be directed at the friends you are the closest with: in particular Maddie. She has her moments as well--she likes to antagonize you and like any good woman, knows just what buttons to push. I liken your relationship to the closest one to a brother-sister one either of you has as the moment. You talk about Maddie constantly with such adoration, I can only hope that you stop acting like her abusive husband and return to acting like her BFF.

Thankfully you didn't try to drown any of your friends...

Now we'll go back to the good. As always, with each passing month you get a little better at communicating. You no longer ask "Where he is?" when you mean "Where is he?"...strong grammar is a positive asset in my world, so I like this. You have stronger opinions and you aren't afraid to voice them in a defiant voice. The person who coined the phrase "pick your battles" must have had a toddler. "I NOT wear that hat! I wear this one!"--no problem. "I want an ice pop!" (at 8a.m.) um no. Sometimes when we get in the car and you don't know where we're going you'll tell me where you THINK we should be going. Maddie's house, Ben's beach, and Dunwoody are all popular answers right now.

One really, really cute trait you've developed is that of making your own observations about things. This is really, really cute sometimes. For example, the way you tell me you don't want to wear shoes outside is to say "Mom, I not wear my shoes. I want to wear my toes today!" The not-so-cute side of this trait is evident as well. We have had a few pregnant friends give birth recently, and we explained about the baby in the belly, and then it comes out. The other day you grabbed ahold my stomach flab and said "Mom, there's your baby!" Um, thanks buddy. Your father is not immune to this honesty either. The other night at dinner you looked at him contemplatively, and then said "Daddy your nose is big." The look on Gabe's face was priceless. I am just waiting for the humiliating day to come when you tell this to a stranger or ask a fat lady when her baby's coming out!!

At least Mickey doesn't mind when you tell him he stinks...

As we have always done, we end our days with stories, talking, and snuggle time. I have been doing this a lot more than usual this summer, mostly because Daddy has been heading outside after dinner to do yardwork, or we are so busy that I feed you first, and while Daddy is cooking our dinner I do the bedtime routine. As much as I sometimes find reading book after book mindnumbing, I have been enjoying the extra bedtime routines. Its a lot more fun to read to you now, mostly because you like to comment on all the other things on the page. Sometimes I actually read the whole story, and other times you just nararate what you think is going on--either way its adorable.

I've almost always been the one who physically carries you up to bed, and I would ask you what your favorite part about your day was, and we'd talk about all the good things you did, and what tomorrow held in store. Lately, you've become an active participant in this conversation and it is so. damn. cute. It is the highlight of my day. Whether we lay together on the couch, or sit in your chair in your room, or talk through the bars of the crib (yep, still in a crib!) the conversation is precious. It's usually humorous...I mean, a 3 year old putting his hands behind his head, laying back, and saying "Its time to talk about the day. Hmmmm? What did we DO?"???? It doesn't get much more adorable than that! I do have to be careful about discussing any plans for the next day that aren't set in stone, because you inevitably wake up and immediately say "Mom we're going to Maddie's! Let's go NOW" (and will continue to say so every second until we actually do go!)

But this persistant and rigidity in memory has a plus side as well. I can't think of a much sweeter moment than going to get you out of your crib on MY birthday, and having you say "Mom! Its your BIRTHDAY! Your friends coming over? You got cake? What number are you?" - it completely melted my heart. And later? When your father brought home a cake for me (something he's never done and I didn't particularly care about)? Knowing that he bought the cake, and I loved the cake, mainly because of YOUR excitement at blowing out candles and of course, eating the cake?

Well there is just something so super sweet and wonderful about that. And that is the essence of being 3. For all the tantrums, the defiance, the beating of other small children...there is still such a sense of wonder, innocence, amazement and delight in the tiniest of things: cake, birthdays, frogs, mud, ice pops. None of these things are particularly amazing in and of their own right but seeing them through the eyes of someone who hasn't been disapointed by life is a gift in and of itself.

Happy 37 months big guy!