Dear Boy (month 33.5 or so)

There is no excuse for dropping the ball on your updates. We have had so many changes since your last one (when you turned two). YOU have had so many changes.

We moved to North Dakota. You have a friend who lives next door who is about a year and a half older than you. I think it's awesome that you actually have that, and that we are part of a real neighborhood where we know our neighbors. We like most of them, and tolerate the rest with a healthy dose of midwestern-nice.

You started day care/preschool/whatever-it's-called when I started my new job at the end of August. It's a school through the university where they train teachers. The whole focus is on learning through play, and you love it. You go three days a week, and you are apparently totally different child there than you are with me. At first, I was almost upset by that, but now I think it's great. You don't throw tantrums there, you don't hit other children (like you hit me), and they describe you as a "sweet, quiet, little boy". You are very obviously happy when you are there, and that makes me happy. It's been amazing to watch you blossom as a person by spending time with other children in a safe environment. Your teachers are great and you have a handful of favorite friends (even a best friend). I was, however, taken aback when they first told me that you were "quiet". I had to make sure we were talking about the same child! It's not that you are withdrawn--you play with other children plenty--but you are thoughtful and a little reserved when you are at school, which is quite the opposite of your home self. I was the same way.

Your best friend is named Jackson, and it's fantastic to watch the two of you goof around and make each other laugh. You've had a total language explosion since you started school. And the best part, for me, is that there is no TV. Because no matter how much I tell myself that too much TV can hurt you, it is such an easy crutch in this house. The second best part, for me, is that your teachers are people who chose to work with kids for a reason and they are GOOD at it. I'm not. I love you. I love you so much my heart wants to explode when I think about it. But I am not particularly great with small children and do not have the patience with you that you deserve on a day-to-day basis. Instead of berating myself for not being the kind of mother I think I "should" be, I've finally accepted that other caring people can mother you as well--and they do a damn fine job of it. I came from a very dysfunctional family, and I think you should really be getting some input about how to be a human being from someone aside from me. And now that I'm finally accepting that about myself, our lives seem to be getting easier, and I enjoy my time with you so much more now that some of the pressure is gone.

Speaking of TV, you saw Toy Story for the first time this week. You have subsequently been running around the house talking into your arm.

You love Dora and Diego, and Little Einsteins. All TV badness aside, I love them too, in that you run around talking about taking care of animals and now (finally) wanting to play music and dance. Those shows are not all bad. You still like to watch Signing Time, and you still use many of your ASL signs. There was a period in time when you were catching up in verbal language and you didn’t sign much. But then, once you had sort of caught up, it was like BAM! and you were back to using both. That makes me happy. I hope you hold on to sign language.
You know how to use a digital camera, and are getting quite good at it. You like to take pictures of your trains, your cars, and Tigger.

This morning, I was sick. I've been sick for a few days, but it was really hard to get up. I went to the freezer and got two of those Uncrustables sandwiches. Totally processed. Totally delicious. Especially if you only let them thaw for about 10 minutes instead of the recommendations on the box. We sat in bed and watched Dora and some trippy-hippy-lovely show called "Mustard Pancakes" that is like Mr. Rogers but with a folk singer and MORE PUPPETS! When I laid back down, you offered me your Tiggy. Your beloved Tiggy. I asked you to find another animal I could cuddle with so that you could still cuddle with Tiggy. You brought in a whole big bin of stuffed critters from your room, and put (threw) them on the bed, one by one. I was covered. It was lovely.

Then you asked if I was sick. I said yes. So you got your doctor stuff (which is also in the same little box as your tools like screwdrivers, hammers, etc.). So, part of the time, you were checking my ears, my throat, my nose, my temperature...and the rest of the time you were screwing things into my forehead, hammering things into the side of my head (all very gently). Apparently, I was so sick that you thought the most conservative approach was to treat me as a human AND robot, just in case.

You gave up your binkies on Veteran's Day. I casually mentioned one night that soon, we were going to take them all in and trade them for a toy. I was thinking a month or two away. Nope. You got up the next morning and said, "trade binkies for toys and stickers?" I asked (several times) if you were sure, and explained what that meant, and you were on board. So, we put them all into a jar, and I let you look through a Target Toy Catalog that was randomly in my house. You knew just what you wanted, and we went there and got it. The next day was not a school day for you, so I went there to grab your two nap binkies, brought them home and explained that teacher Tina had given them to me. So then, we picked out another little toy. You asked once or twice after that at bedtime where they were, and I reminded you, and that was it. THAT WAS IT? Yes, that was it. Amazing. This is also how the whole toddler-bed thing went too--you were excited about it, I wasted no time making it happen because I was afraid we'd miss a window of opportunity, and damn if you didn't transition to it with no problems. If only I'd had the foresight to not say A DAMN THING about potty-training, ever, I'm sure we'd be DONE with it now. Sigh. I'm thinking that when the weather is nice again in May or so, that would be a good time to trade diapers in for toys, and that be the end of it. You seem like that kind of kid. I understand. Really I do.

You are learning your colors, you can count but don't REALLY understand what you're doing. You can finish sentences in SO MANY of your books it freaks me out. You like to dance. You like to paint. You especially (this week) like to draw with erasable markers because ta-da, they can be erased. You've started to tell me what's in your drawings and I kind of get it. I can see it. This is exciting for me.

You love books. You love trains. You love puzzles. You love cars. You love wearing mittens (a new thing here!). You have been asking for a tea set. The answer is yes, absolutely. You have all sorts of strange and interesting conversations among your furry friends. You talk in your sleep. You are still a good sleeper, though you try to dawdle some nights. Not too bad. You are a little trickster. When the doctor asks you where your nose is, you point to your belly and say belly button. When she asks where your ear is, you point to your eye and correctly say eye. You do not do this at other times when you are cooperative, but you will be damned if you're going to give HER what she's asking for. You know that you're playing, and I know that you're playing, because you are smiling and giggling, but the silly doctors sometimes seem concerned... This happens with your teachers too. One day, I came to pick you up and one by one you pointed to each of the pictures in every person's cubby. At this age, they kind of function as labels since you don't know how to read yet. So, as you were pointing to each picture, you were telling me each person's name. Teacher Tina walked over and said, Albert Patterson, have you been holding out on me all this time? Because there had been several instances where she tried to assess how well you understood the concept of names and if knew the names of your classmates and she. got. NOTHING. from you. The flip side of this is that when I had to put eyedrops in your eyes for pinkeye, I was on the verge of strapping your arms down with belts and sitting on you. I DID sit on you, actually, I just didn't resort to a tying you up. When she put them in when I wasn't around, you tilted your head right back, didn't squirm, cry, or even flinch. Kids. Hmph. She said that even though she is a TEACHER the same thing happens with her kids and they are way more difficult for her and their teachers seem to have have magical powers. Kids are weird.

I enjoy your company. I like playing with you. I just have a terrible attention span for it. So I try to REALLY be present when I'm with you, and then REALLY focus on work when you are in day care. Sometimes that is hard, and sometimes I resort to popping in a DVD or something, but thank god we don't have cable with all of the insidious advertising. Eck. The character cross-marketing is bad enough without you seeing commercials for breakfast candy cereal.

We like to go for drives. There are so many beautiful places near by. The prairielands are unlike anything I have ever known. They make me so homesick for Arizona. But the prairielands are so beautiful in a haunting and open and brutal way. The land here is like the desert lands of my home--be caught out and about in their world in the wrong season or in the wrong mood, and it will kill you.

You have learned some manners, and often apply them in interesting ways. As in, Albie, it’s time for us to put the trains away, and you will say no, thank you.  When you are really resistant to doing something, you just roar at me. Not yell. No, it’s a roar, like a dinosaur or lion. Cute, yes, but very primal too. You will ask people what’s wrong, why they are sad, or why they are crying, or tell me not to worry if I seem upset about something. You say thank you spontaneously most of the time after you are given something. Please is a little more sketchy. You will apologize unprompted most of the time if you hurt some one on accident. We’re working on apologies after intentional hits.

Several of the faculty members here have children close to your age, and that has been a blessing. It's the first time that I've felt like I'm really part of a community. I felt part of a community in AZ--the birth community--but I wasn't directly doing any of that kind of work and we were all VERY spread out because Phx is so ridiculously huge, and people moved away. So it was hard there to connect with the people I love so much--which is another reason that I need to write these updates about you, Albie. So that they know. There are people out there who you may not remember that know you and love you and I want them to know about your life and our life together.

I love you Albie. Even on the toughest days, I so love you. I am so proud of who you are. Not something you do, but who you ARE. I am so lucky to know you.

You are becoming much more of a little boy every day. The next post will include pics. For now, I don't want to delay this post by dealing with them...

Love,

Mama