Samuel: 35 Months

Hey Little Buddy,

This month is best summed up in an incredible dichotomy of personality types: all sweet or all sneaky. At times you are absolutely the snuggliest, sweetest, most well-behaved boy ever. At other times I find you hiding in a closet, under the covers, or beneath a large piece of furniture with all kinds of verboten items: gum (or the whole gumball machine), candy, chocolate, Maddie's things, my things, you get the point. There is so much sneakiness going on in that little brain of yours.

Then there's the constant tripping, falling, crashing, banging, daredevil-type behavior, effects seen in the photo below:

You're kind of a clutz these days, and your war wounds are quickly becoming regular preschool teacher conversation starters: "Wow, Sam. What happened here?" This particular set of scabs was from tumbling face-first down a slide at school and then skidding across the rubber padding. Ouch. All the moms gasped at that one. It was pretty bad.

We dressed you up as a white trash baby for our friend's 60th birthday. You took to the role with unpredictable aplomb. Not five minutes after arriving you had kicked off your (one) boot and grabbed a rifle. Not ten minutes after our arrival you dropped trou, took a poo and then left your poopy diaper laying in the middle of our friend's lawn before running off nekkid, poop hanging from your booty. Yep, a regular ol' white trash kid. Proud of you, son. (You also carried around a baby bottle filled with orange soda. I thought it was pretty clever, personally).

But if anything sets this 35th month of life apart, it's the constant changing of dress up outfits. I remember well when your sister wore a different dress each day. You, my friend, change frequently from doh-doh man (superman) to boat man (pirate) to blast off man (astronaut) to nigh man (knight) to hee-haw man (cowboy). There are sound effects and weapons that accompany every persona. It is a sight to behold. You and Maddie love to play doh-doh man and doh-doh baby. One day last week you donned your doh-doh family costumes as we ran around outside, leaping over wet puddles in a single bound. It. was. awesome.

All in all, I often pinch myself at the joy of being your mom. You are a dream child: sweet, kind, caring, affectionate, creative, intelligent, clever. You greet your sister each time you're apart with two hands on either side of her face, a tender kiss, and a hug. You fill our lives with an inordinate amount of laughter; it seems we're always smiling or giggling at something you've done. Thanks for teaching me to savor the funny sayings and peculiar outfits, to slow down and look for the perfect ba-doo ba-doo gun stick, the joy of discovering new delicious treats, and most of all for teaching me what it's really like to parent a boy-child. You are so fun, buddy.

Next time we do this, you're three. Stop it. Right now.

Love,

Mama