Tuesday, August 07, 2012

Sam: 41 Months

Dear Sam,

So, in July I skipped the monthly updates. For a while I was feeling sort of guilty, but then I just forgave myself and moved on. I've had a pretty good track record so one month isn't going to knock me out of the running for mom-of-the-year. :)

Sam my man, you are such a funny guy these days!

I HAVE to record your sweet little sing-song voice. What you lack in articulation you make up for in intonation. You have a way of trailing off your words either with a Soprano upswing or a long, drawn-out dissolve into a growly Basso. You are full of words, talking constantly, and needing my *full* attention in order to finish your thought. Many times this month you've grabbed my face, ears or hair gently with two little hands to focus my face and eyes directly on you while you talk, talk, talk. 

You are thrilled with the idea of a new baby. Some of your first thoughts about being a brother were enough to melt my heart. When I asked you whether you wanted a baby girl or a baby boy, you said, "Want a baby girl. Want another Ma-Ma!" The fact that you want another Maddie in the house is so, so sweet and so indicative of the close-knit relationship you two have. Shortly thereafter, you announced to us all that you had big plans to hold that baby on your lap while you went on Papa's tractor. I love that you are already planning to share your love of all things vehicular with this new little life. 

Your Daddy said the other day that sometimes he just wants to bottle you up. I totally agree. For all of your naughtiness, sneaking around, and general little brother peskiness, you are just too delightful for words. You are sweet and funny, delicious and snuggly, smart and curious and cute, cute, cute. Some of the things you say and do leave us laughing for hours, revisiting that look, antic or choice of words long into the following hours and days.

There is one small thing that I would love to address, and that is the issue of potty-training. For months you've gone days at a time with no accidents, only to regress on a moment's notice, peeing on the floor, behind playground equipment, in your pants, you get the idea. And the three year-old poops? They are making my stomach turn. Literally. The closest I've been in the past 8 weeks to losing my lunch is when I've been hunkered down in an enclosed space, changing your pants. Let's go ahead and do those things in the potty. What do you say, bud?

In one short month you'll be back in preschool, three days a week! My little boy is growing up so fast. I can't believe you'll be gone three mornings. While I know I'll relish the down time (aka nap on the couch time), I will miss our mornings together. You've been the best, most easy going little compadre. You sit in the stroller while I exercise. You love to run errands with me. You're a super coffee date. We'll have to make the most of our Tuesday and Thursday one-on-one times, squeezing in lots of dates this year before another little person enters into the equation.

Thanks for always being wiling to offer a snuggle, a kiss, a high five, a funny look, and for just being the best boy ever. You are such a marvelous creation of a most amazingly creative God. 



1 comment:

mel @ the larson lingo said...

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