letters » Stop, Drop and Blog

Happy 3rd Birthday, LittleBrother!

Nov 242010

Dear LittleBrother,

You’re finally three! Hooray! Watching your excited face take in the fact that you are no longer two this morning was precious.

Of course, your birthday is kind of anti-climactic for me too. You’ve been acting like a three year old for weeks, nay, months now. Oh yeah. You’re an overachiever indeed. But it’s okay. Despite the argumentative nature of being three, you’ve managed to hold on to some sweetness.

Official Birthday Picture

You amaze us all the time.

People think you’re the quiet one compared to your brother. In fact, we used to think that as well. Perhaps that’s why you have decided to bring on the noise and bring on the funk. You, my son, are loud. And not really in a bad way, unless I’m trying to have a conference call and seem halfway professional. No, your loud is just that loud of a boy who loves to live. Loudly and fully. I can appreciate that.

Eyelashes

This year has brought many changes for you. I am thrilled that you are loving preschool. I was worried, I’ll admit, thinking your shyness (despite your newfound volume) might hinder your experience. Your teachers might say, “What shyness?” Yeah, you’re coming out of your shell at preschool just like BigBrother did. I have loved hearing about your day when you come home; your words make me smile.

Booey

Speaking of words, holy vocab, Batman. You take the “boys aren’t verbal” stereotype and jump all over it while reciting whatever book we are reading at the present moment. Not that your brother isn’t verbal (Lord help us, he is), but you take everything he says and add in your own commentary as well. You’ve exceeded parrot status and are just rocking your own set of words.

And all of your “stuff” that you’ve done this year (potty training being my favorite) can’t even compare to just how generally awesome you truly are. I love that you are funny and silly and, yes, even grumpy. Mainly because however you are feeling, you can’t have a conversation without say to me or Daddy, “I love you.”

And you’re a ham. (And, really, kind of the instigator…)

Silly Booey

And we love that about you.

Maybe by the time you’re four you’ll master looking at the camera the way you did when you were a newborn.

Little Booey

Maybe…

Not Looking, Painful

And even if you don’t (please, please do…), we love you, so very much.

Happy Birthday, Booey!

Love,
Mommy

A Letter to the Growing Tyrant

Parenting 11 Responses »

Jul 022010

Dear LittleBrother,

I love you. I do. And, dang, you’re cute. Last night when you crawled in bed with me after your bad dream, I could have snuggled you for hours. The way you say, “Mommy, I love you all the times,” kind of makes my heart melt, over and over and over. And over. You know, since you say it all day. I love you all the times, too.

Which is why I need to write this letter.

I looked at your Daddy the other day and said, “Is it just me or is LittleBrother becoming increasingly difficult?” He laughed. And nodded. Emphatically. Of course, we know what’s up: you’re almost three.

For most of this year, you have been a ray of sunshine with intermittent storm clouds and the occasional lightning bolt. Really, you’ve just been great. You listen well. You clean up toys. You attempt to share and do so better with people other than your older brother. You sleep well. You all but potty trained yourself. You’re a good eater. But the reason that people made up the myth of the Terrible Twos was solely to make sure that parents let their children live until they were three… so they could then laugh at those going through the Tyrannical Threes that no one prepared them for.

Oh, the threes. Your brother took us for a wild ride. I thought that maybe, just maybe, as you have strikingly different personalities, you might skip the Tyrannical Threes. Looks like no dice on that one. Recently you’ve been trying to shirk your bedtime but still waking up just as early. Your use of the word no in your very unique high pitched squeal is becoming more frequent. The attitude you deliver certain lines with can be alarming (and, really, kind of funny with your teeny-tiny voice). And the issues we’re having with food as of late are making me kind of twitchy. I really don’t like to twitch, Bubba. I don’t.

I know we’ll survive the threes. We will. But, really, if you could just tone it down a little bit until maybe three-and-a-half, give me some time to gear up, that would be spectacular. You won’t be three for another few months. I don’t need a preview. I know what’s coming. I understand the arguments we’ll have. And really, I guess I’m prepared already. I’ve been here, done this. But I just wasn’t ready for you to grow up, to move forward to the point where you won’t like me anymore. You’re my baby. I’d really like you to like me for just a little longer. Is that too much to ask?

It is?

Oh. Well, the good news is that I do love you all the times.

Oh, LB

Please just remember that you love me all the times the next time I put you in time out for whatever you’ve done or said. Okay? And maybe you could snuggle just a little bit more. Yeah? Please?

Love you all the times, even when you’re almost three,
Mommy

_
[This is the last weekend to win the $100 Visa gift card!]
[This blog is nominated for two BlogLuxe awards (Eye Candy & Blog You Learned the Most From) while Chronicles of Munchkin Land is nominated for Most Inspiring. Vote if you feel so inclined.]