I seriously love this third child of mine.
That is my note to self, as I have been feeling less than charitable toward Theo since potty training had the unexpected consequence of him waking up around 5:00 am ever since to use the facilities…and when he’s up, he’s up. He hasn’t really slept through the night since his first four months of life, but this new early waking is kicking my butt way more than brief middle-of-the-night comfortings usually do. Carl is back today (hooray!!), and all I really want is to sleep past 5:00 am for one morning and he’ll be completely back in my good books.
Not to say he’s in my bad books…it really isn’t his fault his son has an eager bladder, or that his other son hit a growth spurt the day after he went away that meant my 13-hour-a-night sleeper started waking up twice a night to eat, or that he came in at midnight last night…it’s really just the exhaustion talking today. (Hint: Carl, if you’re reading this, a nap would not be an unwelcome suggestion ;))
Anyway, multiple and early wakings aside, this loud and lanky two-year-old has a twinkly-eyed charm that still makes him impossible to resist.
Throughout the day he will declare unpredictably, “SHOOT!” and throw anything heavy in his vicinity at the nearest person. If you’re hit and shocked, he follows with an enthusiastic, “SCORES!”, but will immediately run over saying “Hug?” and wrap his arms around you, making it almost worth being hit. He is also a master mime – when he knows he won’t be able to make himself understood with his limited vocabulary, he doesn’t even try – he acts out instead, and it is amazing.
Wet blankets are his favourite thing, and every time I turn around he has my tea towel in his grasp if it has even a slight dampness to it. When I put him to bed he requests a “wet blank” – the crazier part is that I actually oblige, running his tea towel briefly under the tap and bringing it back to his eager hands. He was born slightly early so I’m wondering if he just didn’t get enough quality time in the watery womb? The second he has a wet towel, or stands on the wet bathmat, or drools on the couch, or spills his drink on his shirt, he’s holding the wet patch with one hand and sucking the fingers on his other hand. His freshly showered sister’s hair is one thing he finds impossible to resist.
He loves to be outside and on the move, and is capable of extreme focus and quick bounce-back from any injury. Today he’s sporting a bald patch on top of his head from a run-in with a door hinge yesterday – he cried for literally 15 seconds and I didn’t even notice until later that a chunk of head and hair was hanging free.
He loves a good game of Connect Four, one hand inserting pieces, one hand on the bottom to release them all should he seem to be losing (which is often, since he can’t reliably count to four).
He enjoys a nice castle for watching a movie. (Ken and Ariel unceremoniously cast aside to dismayed cries from his sister).
He won’t say no to a nice pair of shoes, and does a mean catwalk.
And if Dad or Babu is on the phone, everything else must stop. He doesn’t make much conversation, but he can listen to them talk for as long as they can come up with things to say, answering any question with a cheery “Yup!”
Who knew such a little body could hold so much personality? I’ve already forgotten being tired – that enthusiasm is, thankfully, wickedly contagious. I hope he stays this full of pizazz forever.