An Open Letter

Dear Brent:

I have a few little quips and funny stories to tell, but I feel like I tell too many cute stories, and I forget to share what's important. Another 4 days passed when you were up visiting your Dad. I keep thinking it will get easier, and it never does. And during those times, I don't sit around and think of how you said your dinner tasted like "Chocolate Ca-ca" because you didn't like it. And I don't think of how you keep asking to go to "poo-poo town" (what's with all the poop talk anyhow??). I think about how I can avoid going past your room when I go to bed, so I don't think about the fact that you're not there to ask for one more hug, and instead pull my face down into your neck so that I'll pretend to bite you while you giggle furiously. I think about how many people love you already in your relatively short life so far, and how I both love and hate sharing you.

I watch as you blossom and grow, each day learning new things and seeing a new version of the world. Last night we were reading and talking before bed, and all of a sudden you scrunched up your face in fear and declared "I'm SO scared of dinosaurs!" So I took a few minutes and explained that they weren't around anymore, and that they all died a long long time ago, before any people were even on the earth yet...and that we only know what we do about them because they left their bones, etc. Oh, the relief on your face! All this time I guess you were expecting to round a corner one day and come face to face with one. And why not, they're in so many childrens books and animal books. You're still not fond of alligators, but I promise the odds of seeing one are slim at this point.

This is just one of many things that you will learn in the next few years, things that will change your ever-morphing reality. The puzzle pieces come together, one by one. And even when you think you have room for no more pieces, you notice that one side of the puzzle isn't as complete as you once thought, and many more start adding on. And the thing to remember, is that yours is still different from any one elses. We all view the world based on our experiences and knowledge, and each one is as unique as the many snowflakes.

I want to share with you sometimes, when you innocently demand something different for dinner, or complain about what clothes you want to wear, that there are so many children just as special as you, with no choices, or no food today, or no warm clothes. But those are pieces of the puzzle that you don't need to know about quite yet. I think you would be more alarmed to discover that some people don't have access to Spongebob Squarepants on a near-hourly basis (is it a law that at any given time, it must be playing on some channel?)

There is plenty of time for you to discover these things. One of my biggest hopes, is that you will grow into the kind of person that is thankful for what you have, instead of wishing for what you don't...that you will learn and grow far deeper and stronger than I am capable of.

Until then, I will wallow in your innocence for a spell, while we chase each other in the yard...you as the growling tiger and me as a snake, or cow, or whatever you chose for me this time. I will pretend to hate it when you jump on my back with your sharp claws. I will force myself not to laugh at your 'ferocious' snarling and scrunched up nose. And I will set aside all my grownup responsibilites for a few minutes so that I can properly channel your prey animals. One day, when you're ready, I have stories to share and important things to teach you. For right now though, lets just be 3 years old.

Sparkles

For the last three weeks, Brent has been on a poptart kick. I let him have one or two for breakfast, a couple times a week. This really isn't pertinent information, but for background, we can assume that he's familiar with poptarts. All of the ones he's eaten are strawberry, and have come from the same box.

In the back seat this morning, while I'm traversing traffic, I hear him let out a sudden, high pitched scream. I look in the rear view mirror, and try to think of a place to pull over. He's holding out the last two bites of his poptart and shrieking: "THERE'S SPARKLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I ask him what he means, which probably came out as "BRENT!!! WHAT are you TALKING ABOUT????" since adrenalin has forced my stomach into my throat and I'm mad at the non-emergency screaming.

He looks at the poptart, then at me, then wipes his tears and finishes it.

I briefly wonder how much a skinny three year old goes for on the black market, then go back to driving.

Waterslide!

Yesterday Brent and Alex got to use the new waterslide! I'm letting the pictures do most of the talkin'... The only thing that doesn't show is the fact that neither of them could figure out how to run and slide, so we had to push them for each trip. Occasionally they would want to "DO IT MYSELF!!!" and would skimmy down on their hands and knees.

(in the back seat, between Brent and Lucy)

Brent: Lucy, I'm going to ride a bear!
Lucy: What?? A what??!!
Brent: I'm going to my grandad's to ride a bear! At the circus!

(mental note - put phone on speakerphone when Brent is talking to his grandad)

Nostalgia

I spent a few hours over the last couple days re-reading all my posts on here from the beginning. I can't believe that I've been doing this for 3 years! Anyone who knows me, knows I tend to fizzle on things after awhile. But it was so warming to go back and read little anecdotes and stories that otherwise I would never have remembered. And it was so much fun to go back in time and remember those precious chubby thighs and crazy antics. So I have renewed vigor now to post more often, even just snippets here and there. Because I truly do cherish all the time I've had with Brent, and look forward to the many years ahead.

This morning on the way to work, he picked up his play phone and called Daddy. A long one-sided conversation ensued about where he was going (to school!) and what he was eating (baby pancakes). I tried to seize the opportunity, as usually he refuses to talk on the phone to ANYONE at ANYTIME.

"Here, Brent! Here's mommy's real phone! Go ahead and call and talk to Daddy". He knows how to hold the '2' button down to do this.
"No" he said matter-of-factly.
"Yes..." I offered.
"NO!"
"Honey. Just call and say hi. It's no different than a play phone". I held down the 2 button and handed the phone back. Since he was at work, we got the voice mail, and he squeaked out a "hi daddy" and an "I love you" and a "goodbye". Progress!

Last night I was finishing up the bedtime regiment, and asked him what he wanted for breakfast. "Hmmmmm.....," he thought for a minute. "I'll have chicken, and sausage, and eggs, and carrots, and peas, and......I think that's about it," he said with his finger on his chin in deep thought. "Well that's different," I said. "How about some waffles?!" He smiled excitedly and yelled "OKAY!!!!" Whew! Thought I might have to cook there for a minute!