why i love 3

I love the age three. Love, love, love it. Three is the new two. Honestly, I've loved every age my son has been so far, and each one has been my new favorite. Here's why I love three:

• The conversations. My son is now capable of holding really fun conversations. He has a great imagination and sense of humor, balanced by a firm grasp of reality - if you express anxiety about not knowing how to drive his imaginary train, he's likely to remind you that it's not real, after all (i.e., don't worry, you silly grown-up).
• The affection. He has such a kind heart and gives me kisses, hugs, and pats. And he still allows me to smother him in kisses. Sometimes.
• The activities. He can ride a bike! He likes to hike! He has an insatiable appetite for books! His interests and abilities are expanding exponentially. I also enjoy seeing his emerging artistic side when we do crafts.
• The cuteness. He's still got just a hint of baby left in him, and I love it.

1, 2, 3...chaos!

Although I wouldn't exactly describe my son's grasp of the numbers between 1 and 10 as rock-solid, he occasionally does make it to 10 when counting something important, like pieces of candy. So I know he can do it.

But lately, his counting has gone a bit squirrelly. He'll be counting happily along, "1, 2, 3," and then "4, 5," but then skips 6 to get to "7, 8, 9", and then things get really crazy: "4, 2, 7, 9, 3!" Then he looks up at me proudly and says, "Yes, there are 3!"

When counting us off for a running race: "1, 8, 9, 4, Go!"

When counting pieces of cereal for a snack: "1, 2, 3, 8!"

I'm not exactly sure what's going on. Is it a regression? Or is he messing with me, knowing that I've never done this "mom" thing before and tend to worry too much; is he trying to push me to my breaking point? My best guess is that he just thinks it's fun to say numbers at random.

Either way, I'm not really worried. For now, I'll just count everything in sight with him. You know, just for a little reinforcement. Within reason, of course - in the books we read and things around the house. I won't, for example, go crazy and count every fish in every fish tank in Petsmart, at my son's request. Err... yes, I guess I did do that last weekend. (Grand total: about 8,000,000.)

On the plus side, he knows how to use my phone. And isn't that all kids need to know these days?

tavin update

A while ago, I shared a story about a little boy named Tavin who was adopted from Ukraine.

I check in on his adoptive family's blog now and then, just to see how he's doing.

He's doing great. Check it out.

http://daffodilsandearthworms.blogspot.com/

I am so, so glad that this family found Tavin and are giving him such a wonderful life.

is there a doctor in the house?

Doctor made a housecall at our house the other night. Came in wearing his beeper and plastic nametag clipped to the neck of his t-shirt. A little unusual, but I went with it.

Dr.: I'm Dr. Sakanaka [Japanese, apparently]. What's the matter?
Me: My elbow hurts.
Dr.: Were you mopping, and you slipped and fell down?
Me: Um... yes, I think so.
Dr.: Let me use this. [Gets out blood pressure cuff.] How do you use this?
Me: Here, put it around my arm. Then push the squeezy thing. If the arrow is in the yellow, it's good. If it's in the red, it's bad.
Dr.: Uh oh, it's in the red. Hmm. [Puts blood pressure cuff away.]

Pause.

Dr.: I think you need a shot.
Me: [Cringing] Really? Are you sure?
Dr.: [Sympathetic] Well...do you think you need a shot?
Me: I don't know. You're the doctor. Do I?
Dr.: Well...I don't really think so, since you don't want one.
Me: Are you sure?
Dr.: Yes, I will just put a bandaid on it. [He pronounced it "bambaid", also unusual for doctor, but I didn't want to embarrass him by correcting him.] [Attempts to put circular plastic bandaid on my elbow. It holds, but can tell it's only temporary.]
Me: Dr. Sakanaka, I don't think you know what you're doing.
Dr.: [Laughs in true "you got me" style. Practically slaps his knee.]
Me: I think you need to go back to doctor school.
Dr.: Yes, me too. When I was in school, they just talked about pizza.

Dr. Sakanaka goes over to other side of living room, where apparently one can attend medical school (although not sure it is accredited). Listening intently. Perhaps taking notes. Then raises hands in disbelief.

Dr.: What?? They are just talking about pizza again!
Me: You might need to try another school, Dr. Sakanaka.

Amazingly enough, though, my elbow is completely healed.

i love this book: Higglety Pigglety Pop! Or, There Must Be More to Life

People's preference in books is so interesting. I recently brought home Higglety Pigglety Pop! Or, There Must Be More to Life, by Maurice Sendak, author of Where the Wild Things Are, to read to my son. My husband did not like this book. At. All.

I loooooved it. So did my son. That makes me wonder if I should even be writing these posts at all. I mean, what are the chances that someone reading this will have the same taste as me, and this post will actually be helpful for them?

Well, I can't stop myself, because I really loved this book. Here's the premise: Jennie, a dog with everything decides to leave her cushy home in search of "something more." Out in the world, things get interesting: she attempts to apply for a position of leading lady in the World Mother Goose Theater, but, unfortunately, doesn't have enough experience to land the part. What follows is an adventure that is weird, funny, surreal, a little bit scary, and heart-warming. Definitely a different world than most children's books I've read, and a great read for child and parent alike.

Suggested age range: 4-8 years per Amazon (my son is 3)

Author's Note: The opinions in this book review are solely my own. I received no incentive or compensation for writing this review.

candy store

Last weekend, my husband was hard at work on a new backyard improvement: a sitting wall for one of our patios.

My son was hard at work too: in his candy store. Here's how it works.

First, go to the counter of the store and request the type of candy you would like. He has a wide selection, but the most popular is Curious George gummy snacks.

You'll need money to pay for your candy. See those rocks on the ledge? That's the money. He'll give you one after you place your order.

 

You give him your rock money, and he gives you the candy. Then he throws the money into this jumble of cactus, bush, and rocks. I asked him why he did that, and he said, very matter-of-factly, "That's my cash register."

 

Now you can enjoy your candy! And be glad you're not the poor employee who has to retrieve the money from that cash register.

my clean house

Remember when I was worried about my son being a hoarder? Looking back, that seems so silly. I'm so, so not worried anymore. Not in the slightest. Honestly.  I mean, just look at our living room this week.

BTW, has anyone seen my waffle iron?

For all you competitive-types out there, see if you can also find:

• Basket full of used towels
• Easter eggs
• Styrofoam packing from new printer
• Toolbox / sewing kit
• Stuffed bunny wearing Junior Post Office Worker sticker
• Vintage label maker
• Strip of 1-inch elastic