A letter to my now two year old son…

Rhett,

How in the world is it possible that you are now two?  Two years have passed in the blink of an eye?  Two years have flashed by.  Time has sped up, and I’m certain it’s not slowing down any time soon.  How does one slow down the clock to truly enjoy every waking moment of your child, your baby, becoming a little man?  There are so many milestones to mention.  So many things that I should have written about, so many things I’ve probably missed taking the two minutes to sit and write about.   I don’t want to miss any of it, because I realize that I will longingly want to look back and read all of these memories., funny stories and have them forever.   Maybe I will long for the warm and fuzzy memories when you are a teenager, working hard to make me crazy.  Maybe I will long for them after you have moved away from your Mom to seek your own path.  Maybe I will long for them next week.  For these reasons, I write.

You are just over two years old, in fact two years, and 48 days old today.   You act like a five year old some days.  Then you melt down to a baby again.  Melt downs are becoming entertaining, not fun, but entertaining.  We have had a few challenges with the following:  biting, hitting, saying “NO” aggressively, not doing what you are asked, running away from us purposefully, and various other toddler type activities.  So, in an effort to teach you, we decided to try ‘time outs’ with you.  This worked great.  Once.  Since then, you are now putting yourself in time out.  You do something you know you should not, then you say “I go time out” and you saunter over to the nearest corner and place yourself in time out.  Nose in the corner and all.  To further complicate matters, you will turn around shortly thereafter and say “Sorry Mommy (or Daddy or whomever) and you smile, then say Sorry again louder, until our attention is directed your way.  You want out. 

A daycare tale:  You decided to toss all of the puzzles all about the floor one afternoon.  Your teacher, Ms. Jenae, asked you to help clean them up before the next activity.  You refused, so she told you that you could sit in the corner and wait until you were ready to help clean up.   Nearly two hours later, you were still sitting in the corner when I arrived to pick you up.  You thought you were rescued!  Unfortunately you still had to help clean up.  This day, we learned you were stubborn.  Really Stubborn.

Poop.  Why is it that two year olds and poop just go together.  Perhaps it’s the verge and appeal of potty training.  Perhaps the fact that you figure out it’s something you control.  They say girls are easier than boys to train.  Agreed.  Here are some poop tales to date:

Just a few weeks ago,  I took you to see The Lorax movie (after the above daycare incident the day before, but you were behaving this day, so we went and you were good).  After we came home, you were pretty tired, so we got you ready for nap time and you laid down to sleep.  Knowing you are getting braver still sleeping in your crib I decided to watch you on video camera as you went to sleep to see if you would crawl out.  What did I see…no crawling out, but rather you picking at your diaper.  After the second reach in your diaper, I went in to investigate.  As soon as I walk through your door “Look Mommy (holding up hand), I POOP”!!!  You were certainly proud of the fact you had dug out a gold mine.  Ugh.  Thank goodness I caught you before it became finger paint.  I snagged you up out of bed and marched you into the bathroom telling you very sternly that we don’t PLAY with it!!  You couldn’t care less…until I stripped your bed and threw ALL blankets into the washer.  This caused a small nuclear meltdown. You needed every single blanket you were attached too, and they had all just left you.  You fell asleep after new sheets, and a new blanket…and you have not ventured south since.

A couple of days later, we were getting ready one weekday morning and you decided you needed to be naked.  I let you, you pee on the potty and I proceed to get you dressed in a pull up and tell you we poop on the potty (we were working on this step, you were not getting it).  I’m putting my makeup on and you come RUNNING into the bathroom “Mommy, Mommy!!!  I POOP!!!”.  I look down, and you are completely naked.  Immediate panic.  I say “WHERE?  Show Mommy!!”.   You lead me over to a spot on the floor in the living room, and very proudly announced it again.  You were soooo proud of the fact you had pooped.  On the Floor.  In the House.  I start scolding you by telling you that we ONLY poop on the potty or in our diapers, and you then excitedly tell me “Clean it up Mommy, clean it up!”.  Ohhhhh…..this is why they make babies so cute.  So you won’t harm them during moments like this, when you are cleaning feces off the floor.

When you sit on the potty and try to pee, and you can’t, you have taken to saying “Fresh Out”.  Oh the things they pick up from us, as I had asked him one day if he was simply fresh out!

Needless to say.  We have stopped the potty training push.  Daycare has been fairly successful getting you to go on the potty, and that’s great.  You are among peers and we think you want to be like everyone else.  That works for now.  Stinker.

You have picked up a few key phrases that we think are the best ever like:

“Fresh Out” – after you cant go potty anymore

“Daddy John” – for your Daddy

“Honey” – if you want Mom or Dad’s attention, since this is what we call each other

“Mama HOLD you” – when you want us to pick you up and hold YOU

“No, MY DO IT” – for everything you want to do by yourself, which again, is everything.

“I swinging, I go way up high” – love your swingset

“I want….or I like this…..” for whatever item you desire at that time.

“Hippopotamus, Hooray for all of us” – a chant you made up at school, by yourself, and have convinced the entire class to say.

“Fast Cars Daddy” – to see racecars

“I ride Daddy’s truck” or “Where Mommy’s truck?” – always looking for our cars, yet you know that other cars are “dangerous” and you will hold hands in a parking lot because of this.

“Special Treat” – started out by bribing you for potty training, but you understand any candy or any bribe is a special treat.

You love to play hide and seek.

You can count to 15

You can sing your ABC’s (for the most part)

You can recognize about 5-6 shapes

You are working on your colors

You are learning how to brush teeth with real toothpaste, and you really like to spit, which will likely turn into something that gets you into trouble.

You love to be outside, jumping on your trampoline and playing on your swingset. 

You love to eat breakfast.  Sausage and pancakes are a favorite.  As the day goes on, you are less likely to eat well.

Other favorite foods:  Mac N Cheese, Pizza, Corn, Cookies (especially Nannies), Apples, Bananas, Strawberries, Fruit Snacks, “cake” – which could be anything from corn bread to a cinnamon roll or a cupcake, chips (gets this from Daddy).

You love to read  books before bed

Favorite characters or toys:  Cailou, Elmo, Dora (really, obsessed), Pocoyo

You are tall and skinny.  Your little butt won’t hold up most of your jeans or shorts!  I end up tightening everything.  Otherwise, you are fairly true to size and you really like to pick out your shoes.  You call most of your tennis your “runnin shoes” and they make you “go fast”.

You have had MANY haircuts – and you are a pro!  Makes a barbershop Mom proud as you sit in that chair all by yourself.  You are really just waiting for that lovely “Special Treat” – the lollipop J

You LOVE company – any family that come to visit or call you including (in no specific order):  Nannie & Granddad (Countess), Grandpa & Grandma Sherry, Auntie Cindy, Uncle Jim, Auntie Nana, Auntie Jayde, Uncle Nic, Danica, Grandma (Brown), Maddie (Colby)….and others.  He’s in the ‘show off’ stage, and wants to drag everyone outside to his swingset and show them all his toys and play things.  Parents, we become invisible.

Oh, Rhett  You are the simply the best thing that has ever happened to us.

Love, Mommy

What a difference a single year will make....

BABY.... 

To BOY....

I just thought this to be so true.