Thirty-Eight Months

Dear Peeper:
You are thirty-eight months old today, and other than Christmas, of course, by far your biggest news in the past month is that we have recently declared you Officially Potty Trained.

YAY!

A month ago, I was hoping to hear just one "Mama! Pee-pee!" soon, and now you're telling us on a regular basis that, "My pee-pee's tryin' to fall out!" or "I got a biiiig giant fing in my booty tryin' to come out!" 

(This is what I get for talking to you about exactly what "the feeling" actually feels like, to help you recognize it.)

And, a couple of times yesterday, we discovered that you were in the bathroom, on the potty. You had gotten your step stool and potty seat into position, climbed up, gotten your pants down and sat - all by yourself!

As soon as we figure out how to help you with tearing off some toilet paper without unrolling the whole roll (it's not intentional, you just have trouble tearing it) and work on your wiping technique a little bit, you'll be able to handle pee-pees all by yourself!

Not only do you tell us when you have to go, but you've had very few accidents lately. Off hand, I can think of maybe three pee-pee accidents, one of which you were able to "cut off" and finish in the potty, one of which was totally our fault (in the car) and another that you reported as soon as it started.

(Christmas Eve at your aunts' house. In a fancy dining chair. I think I grabbed you up before anything soaked through your tights and corduroy pants.)

And I don't remember the last time you pooped in your panties. And today, you pooped in your panties (but finished in the potty) for the first time in probably at least a week or two.

There are still the occasional wet beds (including last night) but from what I hear from friends, that's to be expected for quite a while.

It's not such a big deal when Mommy's home to change the sheets while I goody you, but it is pretty unpleasant when I'm trying to get them changed super-fast while you cry, because you just want to go back to sleep. So, yeah, let's work on scheduling that a little better.

Last night, you got the comforter, too, and when Mommy brought us a throw blanket from the couch, you wanted nothing to do with it because "It doesn't maaaaatch!"

You are all about the matching. If you start out the night in jammies (Which is rare, you prefer to just wear panties. All the time.) and something happens to either the top or the pants, we always have to change the whole set, to make them match. I've had to explain to you a few times that things don't have to be the same color to "match." (You have several outfits with coordinating, but not same-colored pants and shirt!)

You are also all about dress-up, especially in your Sugar Plum Fairy gear.

Oh, and the ballet. You are loving all things ballet-related these days. It started, of course, with Nutcracker, but you now have DVDs of Swan Lake and Sleepy Beauty, as well.


For Christmas, you not only got a sparkly tutu, tiara and wand for dress-up purposes, but also some real tights and leotards and a ballet skirt.

What's all that for?

Well, next week, you are going to go to "one ballet class, to see if it's something that you might want to do with you're a little bit older."

What I've not exactly told you yet is that "a little bit older" probably means "two weeks later, when we get back from Texas."

One of the local dance studios, where many of your friends take lessons, has a KinderDance I class starting next week, for 3 - 5 year olds. When we ran into the teacher at Target last week, she told me that, so far, it's almost exclusively barely-threes, which sounds like a good fit for you.

The class will be an hour each week, and will include tap, ballet and some tumbling. It's not a Mommy-and-Me, which makes me a little nervous, and I'm a bit concerned about your tendency to go off and do your own thing, but the instructor (who is also the owner of the studio) has told me that that's pretty much par for the course at that level, and not a big deal.

When I mentioned the possibility of  you "dancing on the stage" you freaked out a little bit, and almost backed out of the whole thing, so you will not be participating in the recital this year, and you never have to participate in it, if you don't want to.

If things go well with the free sample class next week, you'll start going weekly when we get home from Texas (you'll just have to miss one week) and if it doesn't go so well, I think we'll try the "Fun-Dementals" class that's aimed at 2 - 3 year olds.

I hope that one or the other will work out for you, and that you'll enjoy actually learning to dance as much as you enjoy playing at it. And if not, then we'll stop the classes, and you can just do all your performances right here on the coffee table.

Now, let's see if I can remember some of other things that you've said and done lately . . . .

A couple of weeks ago, you were watching videos on Mommy's computer, and I was on mine, when you said, "Here, here! Take this pen! (pencil)" When I asked why, you said, "Because I write on this desk," and showed me the pencil marks.

You know your not supposed to write on the desk, but evidently you also know that if there's a pencil available, you can't control yourself.

A couple of other times you've said, "Take this away from me!" when you were spraying your hair detangler, which you also know you're not supposed to do.

When you want me to leave you alone, you tell me "Go to you computer and type an email!" The other day, you threw me out of the bathroom, saying, "Mommy's gonna help me. Get outta here and check you email!"

You've also got some great excuses when we want you to go to the bathroom. My favorite, I believe is "No, I'm trying to cut back!" 

You are all about the nakey. The other day, we were expecting dinner guests at five, and around four, you were watching Nutcracker and dancing naked on the coffee table, when I heard you yell, "Mama! Our friends are here!" It was actually another friend dropping something off, and she swears that her daughter does the same thing, but yeah. Big picture window in the living room.

The next day, you were up there when I heard, "Mama! There's a roofer at the door!" It was actually a neighbor dropping off a mis-delivered package, but he was in jeans and a tshirt and you've seen a lot of roofers lately. A year ago, you probably would have called him a plumber.

I think you've decided that we're starting our New Years exercise program (not that we necessarily had one planned) early, because you had us huffing and puffing to The Elmo Slide in the office. 
 
Your little sayings and mannerisms crack me up. Many of them, I'm pretty sure you've picked up from Sesame Street, but others, I have no idea.

When you're playing with your toys, and getting things set up, you'll say, "There you go, there you go, and there you go!"

The other day, you added, "And there you have it!" on the end.

When you were opening Christmas gifts, you were channeling Bert in the Gift of the Magi sketch, saying "Let's see here, um, let's see here, um . . . " and once we showed you the trash bag for wrapping paper, every single scrap that you pulled off, you handed to her, saying "Here you go, Mommy. Here you go, Mommy."

I love how you talk to inanimate objects, too. If we're in Target and I bump into someone with my cart, you'll ask "Why you said, 'Excuse me?'" but you will say it to some blocks on the floor, if you have to move them out of your way.

You also talk to my "goodies." When you want to nurse and I'm not fast enough on the draw, you'll say "Oh goody? Goody? Where are ya, goody?!"


One day, you said to them, "Goody! Oh goody. Speaking of goody, I want goody!"

And speaking of goody, at thirty-eight months old, you are still going strong, with no signs of stopping any time soon, but I am seeing some subtle changes in your nursing habits, especially about going to sleep.

Before you started sleeping in your own bed, I would nurse you to sleep - sometimes in bed, sometimes in front of my computer, sometimes in front of Wizard-of-Oz-on-da-tee-vee - and then it would be this huge thing to get you unlatched and sneeeaaaak away without waking you up.

Now, you still nurse to sleep, but usually in your bed, while/after reading several night-night stories (including three - count 'em three - versions of The Nutcracker) and once you're asleep, either you'll unlatch and roll over on your own, or I can just whisper "Roll over, Baby," and you will.

Occasionally, you'll even unlatch and roll over while you're still awake, then fall asleep while "just cuddling" and talking to yourself.

When you're cuddling and going to sleep while not nursing, you always whisper to yourself. I so wish that I could make out what you're saying, but I usually just catch a word or two every now and then.

And what else?

Yesterday, you grabbed the drawstring of Mommy's jammies, and pulled on it, saying "C'mon, leash! C'mon!"

Speaking of jammies, Eena and Papa got me some cupcake jammies for Christmas, and when I tried them on, you hugged my leg and said, "Oh, I love you!" I asked, "Do you love Mama, or do you love my cupcake pants?" and you said, "I love Mama's cupcake pants!"

And speaking of love, your newest funniest-joke-ever is to tell us that we don't love you. You like to tell me, "Only Mommy loves me, not you!"and you tell Mommy "You don't love me!" (Somehow I don't get credit for "only" loving you. Hmmm.)

You're cracking up when you say it, so we consider it a good thing that you consider "my parents don't love me" to be the most absurd thing that you could possibly say.

But you do know that we love each other. A few days ago, we were out running errands, and at one point, i said, "Target next, my love!" and you asked, "Why you say 'Target next, my love?'"

(Because "WHY" is your response to everything these days. I know. Three.)

I said, "Because we're going to Target next, and because you are my love. Are you my love?"

"Yes," you said, so I asked, "Who else is my love?"

You told me, "Mommy is you love," and then asked (of course), "Why Mommy is you love?"

I said, "Because she's my wife and I love her."

And you said, "You like to kiss you wife, and you like to hug you wife."

I said, "I sure do!" and asked you what other things I like to do with her. You came up with "talk to her" and "eat with her," and I added "spend time with her, and spend time with Peeper with her, and go places with her," and yeah, that pretty much covers it, I think.

As distracted as we are at times, and as crazy as our schedules can be, and as little us-time as Mommy and I tend to get, it really made me happy to know that you know that we like to hug and kiss each other.

I'm also pleased that you seem to be pretty in touch with your feelings, and able to verbalize them.

A few weeks ago, I decided that one of your pumpkins (yes, there's still one around, even now) just had to go to compost immediately. I probably could have snuck it out there when you weren't looking, but I told you that it was getting squishy and yucky, and needed to go out, and asked if you wanted to help me take it.

Of course, you did, so we talked about how it will rot and make compost that will help to grow new pumpkins and other veggies next year. You tossed it in the can and looked at it and said "Bye-bye, pumpkin. I am sad about you pumpkin."

It about broke my heart, and I so wanted to just make it all okay, but I know that it's important to have these experiences, and to be okay with being sad about things, so I just acknowledge it and gave you a hug and reminded you about next year's garden.

Sometimes the things you're "sad about" don't seem like a big deal to us, but they certainly are to you. This evening, we were in the basement, and you were playing with a painted canoe paddle, swinging it around. We took it away, and told you that it wasn't a very good toy, because it was going to break something.

Oh, you'd think you'd lost your best friend. You teared up, and cried, "I am sad about yoooouuu!" When I said, "I know you're sad about it," you asked, "Why I sad about it?" So I said that "You were having fun with it, and Mama took it away, because she didn't think it was a good toy, because it could break something, so you are sad."

On the way up the stairs, you said, "I thought it was a great toy!"

And there you go, breaking my heart again.

I'm also very pleased with how you verbalize your questions and concerns about our feelings, too.

Last week, I was telling Dr. T about how I lost it with you when we were making Christmas treats, and yelled at you, and a few minutes later you asked, "Why you were angry with me?"


Her response was basically, "Ouch. But good for her!"


So I did explain that I was frustrated and angry that you weren't cooperating and that you were touching everything I'd told you not to touch, but I also apologized for thinking that what I was working on was something that would be fun for you to help with, which it clearly - in retrospect - should have just been a Mama thing.




It just amazes me that you are big enough for us to have these sorts of conversations, and I really hope that, as you get older, you keep wanting to talk to us about these things.


And about every thing else.

And now, I'll shut up and maybe even go get some sleepy. We've got a goody party to go to at Target in the morning.


I love you, Roodle!


Love,
Mama