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Saturday, November 9th, 2013
2 years, 11 months. (7 days from your 3rd birthday!)
Good Morning, Son. I’m actually writing you from Detroit today. That’s a bit unusual, huh?
I’ve been up here in Michigan for the past couple of days, as General Motors invited me to be part of their “Connected By OnStar” Immersion program.
Yesterday, while particating in a Twitter chat with other fellow parent bloggers, I learned two things:
1) We missed randomly meeting Jimmy Fallon by less than an hour, as proven by the “19h” and “20h” which explain how long ago the event took place:
The Decision. (American or Lafayette Coney) #Detroit#BOTHhttp://instagram.com/p/gdocXVvZ72/
Meanwhile, this is the group Daddy was with:
If there was any doubt @Mochadad proves the American Coney Dog wins!! #puremichigan#tmom @ American… http://instagram.com/p/gdiU3MiTXC/
(For what it’s worth, I invited Jimmy Fallon to dinner with us (via Twitter) but I later learned he had already flown to Chicago shortly after lunch. Hey, I tried!)
2) As we were sort of going around the room, telling each other how many kids we all had, and by default, comparing, this nugget of wisdom was born:
“People who have less kids than you don’t know what they’re missing… people who have more kids than you are just plain crazy.”
As I’ve shared that quote with my Facebook friends and Twitter followers, they seemed to easily agree.
Of course, I was one of the parents in that Twitter chat who only has one child, with no definite plans of having another. So for me to agree with that statement, which I do, is to say that parents with even just two kids are crazier than I am!
And by crazy, I actually might mean… more disciplined and patient, exponentially as compared to me.
Or, maybe they really are just crazy… who knows?
But as for me, I can’t imagine taking two of my own kids to the zoo. I look at these “photo op fails” from our last trip to The Louisville Zoo and think how that was big enough of a challenge for me.
I loved it, don’t get me wrong, but, more than one kid- well, I guess I just don’t know what I’m missing.
P.S. For more on “photo op fails”… click on this other letter I wrote to you back in the summer:
“Celebrating Photo Op Fails With My Kid”
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Saturday, November 2nd, 2013
2 years, 11 months.
Two weeks from today, you’ll turn 3 years old. Today Mommy picked up a few Hot Wheels pick-up trucks as party favors for your very small birthday party coming up; the theme is “Trucks.”
The intention was for you to receive one of these party favors yourself, at the time of your actual birthday party.
You convinced Mommy to let you “just hold” your favorite truck out of the bunch, a brown 1987 Toyota.
That’s right, you carried it, in the package, all day, out in public. We went to your school’s Halloween party today, with each member of our family having to hold your in-the-package pick-up truck at some point.
As you were receiving candy and prizes from your teachers along the way, there we were carrying around a packaged toy.
On the drive home tonight, you announced, “Somebody said I can open it.”
You’re unsure of exactly who it was, of course. Being that the only other two people in the car were Mommy and me, it really made the “somebody” a real mystery.
By the time we walked in the front door, Mommy left it up to me. The ridiculous compromise we settled on was that we would let you open your truck, but we had to keep the package in tact and “pretend” to open it in front of your birthday guests so it would seem like a surprise to you too.
Patience is a virtue… that you’re still working on. But hey, so am I. Honestly, who’s not still working on that one?
It’s so hard to hold back sometimes, even though the timing just isn’t right yet.
I know I’ve lived that lesson more times than I wish to count.
The good news for you is, I don’t see a lot of repercussions with you privately opening your own birthday party favor two weeks early.
No one ever has to know, especially since we managed to open the package without tearing it too badly.
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Saturday, September 28th, 2013
2 years, 10 months.
Mommy and I do our best to make sure that the little time we have together as a family is as quality time as possible.
We recognize that even the exact events that are intended to be exciting family adventures can end up taking away from quality time instead of enhancing it.
Knowing that we’ve got a fun road trip to Louisville coming up in just two weeks, we’re trying to make sure that this weekend and next are relatively chill.
It could be easy to assume that the low key events that take place on weekends like this would be somehwhat not that exciting for you.
But I can’t be too sure…
On Monday at your school, I saw on the wall a giant list entitled “What Do We Do With Our Families?”
As usual, you had perhaps the most seemingly random answer of all for the list:
“I go to Whole Foods and go to the pool with Daddy and Mommy!”
The pool part makes sense… but Whole Foods?
I thought it might truly just be nothing more than a random answer, but this reference to Whole Foods came up on again on Friday.
Mrs. Tonya, your school’s director, was telling me how you, the assistant director, and some of your friends were sitting at a table, pretending to be riding in a car.
When Ms. Lisa, the assistant director, asked where everyone wanted to go, the answers immediately starting coming in from your friends: to the playground, to the zoo, to play with toys, etc.
Then came your answer:
“Let’s go to Whole Foods!”
I imagine it was one of those moments where it was as if music was playing, then suddendly, the DJ stopped the vinyl record and everyone froze what their were doing, in an instant state of confusion.
Even if it seems to me like certain family activities would not be fun for you, like buying groceries with Mommy and Daddy at Whole Foods, there’s still a decent chance you may identify that event as the most exciting one there is.
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Friday, September 27th, 2013
2 years, 10 months.
In the culture of nearly 3 year-olds, I’m assuming that the “line leader” status is pretty much king.
Mommy and I have been noticing that you have been using the term quite frequently as you play with your cars:
“I’m the line leader, I gotta go before you,” I’ll hear you say in a falsetto voice, portraying whichever Hot Wheels car is that is indeed the appointed line leader.
What’s really funny is that you have now begun daily announcing yourself as the line leader… each morning when it’s just you and me as we’re leaving the house for school.
It first happened one day last week as I was sitting down on the carpet, putting on my shoes. You stood up and calm-assertively darted to the front door:
“I’m the line leader.”
At that exact moment, I was preoccupied with thoughts of gathering together my lunch and your snacks for the car.
But I soon realized that I had to take you quite seriously on your claim.
So I just rolled with it.
Though I’ve always been very particular and strict about not letting you anywhere near a street or parking lot without me holding on to you, I realized I need to start showing you I trust you with some boundaries.
Our deal now is that you get to lead us to the 2nd sidewalk square from our front door while I lock up. Granted, I never take my eyes off you while I’m doing it: I’m in reaching distance of you.
Sure, it’s just a matter of a few feet each morning, but you do indeed get to be the line leader.
The current theme/new cool word in your life right now is very clear to me. So I’m trying to make it more relevant for my own life too.
Yesterday morning on the misty, Seattle-like drive to school, you asked me why I stopped to let the 18 wheeler turn in front of me.
My reply: “Because… he’s the line leader.”
I figured you could follow that logic.
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Wednesday, September 25th, 2013
2 years, 10 months.
Now realizing that you have an understanding of what Angry Birds are and because I’m finding myself very entertained these days by your random answers, I asked you a loaded question:
Are Angry Birds mean?
“They were mean, but Lightning McQueen said, ‘It’s okay!’ And Mater said that too…”.
When you quoted Lightning McQueen, it was in falsetto; which is always great.
Not only do you make up answers to weird questions I ask you, but here lately you have begun a hobby of making up words.
This past weekend, your great-uncle Al, who you call “Uncle Owl,” gave you a 5 pack of Hot Wheels cars.
Needless to say, you loved your gift.
Later, as he was leaving, you ran up to him and announced:
“Thanks for the Poagleys!”
I’m assuming “Poagleys” is a proper noun? Maybe it’s “poaglies” instead…
But after all, you’re the one who made up the word.
Another way you use made-up words is to censor yourself, to avoid getting in trouble:
“I don’t like… booshkahs… right now! No way, Daddy!”
What you really want to say is, “I don’t like you right now!”
Instead, in that moment, “booshkahs,” keeps you clean. It works; though I totally know what you’re doing.
It reminds me of the word “smurf.” It can be used as a verb, a noun, an adjective… pretty much any part of speech.
I wish I could just make up stuff when I either didn’t know what to say or knew what I wanted to say but knew better.
Well, I guess I could… but somehow in the adult world I have to participate in, I think that would just confuse people too much and ultimately proof ineffective.
As for you, you’re nearly 3 years old. At least you’ve got a good excuse.
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