Month Thirty-two

Dear Henry,

As of 1:50A.M. this morning you are thirty-two months old. That's 973 days, which of course means we're on our way to celebrating the 1000th day since your arrival. Here's hoping the weather cooperates. It's not officially summer yet but it's been acting more like fall with lots of rain and cloudy days. But enough about the weather, you're thirty-two months old, Bean! Perhaps the coolest thing to occur during the past month is your increased ability to entertain yourself by playing with your toys. Whatever you're playing with, be it the Cars cars or the dinosaurs or the astronauts, you name each item after your friends and family. There will often be a Josie (Chick Hicks) and an Avery (The King) and a Megan (the tractor) driving through the house. You make these toys interact, having conversations - "Hi, I'm Josie." "I'm Avery," and some weird hybrid cow-tractor mechanic moo sound as you tip the tractor over like in the movie - and doing things - the mama, papa, and baby astronauts pile into the spaceship and go into outer space where the dog astronaut will inevitably have to use the spaceship's toilet. You get frustrated if the countdown begins, because you pushed the button on the handle before lifting it from the ground, when you were wanting the cool spaceship traveling sound.If I were going to nickname this month, it'd be the "oh no" month. As in you say "Oh no," like the world is ending. That it is, in fact, crumbling around you when whatever earth ending thing has happened. For instance, the velcro strap on your shoe came undone or you dropped a Lego piece that bounced under the couch and out of reach or a dinosaur you had standing up fell over when the dog's tail hit it. Oh no, indeed, Hen. Oh. No. I suppose this is a complement to the increased level of whining we've had the misfortune of experiencing. Whine. Whine. Whine. Thankfully, these episodes are sporadic and never last long, although truth be told even a 90-second whining session can feel like an eternity when the level and pitch of said whining is set to grating.
Feelings, you have a firm understanding of what these are and that other people have them. When I'm smiling you'll look at me and say, "You're happy!" And when I'm not, I can count on your little voice piping up from the backseat, "You're not happy." ('Cuz let's face it, the other idiots on the road drive me bonkers and do make me very unhappy.) Once I'm smiling again, you'll issue your final report, "You're not sad. You're happy." Happy, mad, frustrated, and sad seem to be the extent of your feelings repertoire right now. You are a much better hand-holder than you have been in the past. I used to think you were going to be one of those difficult toddlers who refuse to hold your hand, usually at times when you most want to have contact with your child. While you still definitely have an independent streak, you no longer seem quite as obnoxious about it as before. This means that oftentimes after crossing the street you'll continue to hold my hand, more specifically my index and middle finger. It's super sweet. Every time this happens I am reminded why it is so amazingly awesome to be a parent. We traveled to the Mexico! (so named because whenever you were asked where we were going you would reply, "to the Mexico!"). I couldn't have asked for a better traveling toddler. You went on your first boat ride and played on a white sand beach and discovered the newly named seaweed lobster and saw dolphins and sea lions in their native habitat. You adopted Avery's ladybug backpack and explored your feminine side, including wearing skirts and butterfly shoes. You are an awesome traveler. Where do you want to go next, little one?One evening, after we had put you in your room and explained that it was bed time and you were to remain in your room and that it was okay to play as long as you did not leave the room, you called out to pops that your Lego airplane had broke. When he trekked in there to assist in repair, he found all the Lego pieces neatly laid out by the door. In true Canadian fashion, your papa replied, "Just broke, eh?"
You enjoy playing with stickers and highlighter pens and your scooter. Heck, you even tried riding your bike! The one we got you for your birthday last year and were so excited about. The same one you haven't showed the slightest interest in all year long. Without prompting or encouragement, you took it out for your own spin around the condo. You can sing the birthday song all the way through, substituting the right name for the person you're singing the song for. You can count quite high but are currently substituting eleventeen for seventeen. You have found the number four. You say "mataytoes" for "tomatoes". You know lots of vegetables and fruits by sight and have already enjoyed one berry picking adventure this year. This farm trip was laden with so much mud that during our walk back to the car, your foot came up without your shoe. The mud had sucked it clean off. And I had to strip off your shoes, socks and pants to put you in the car for the drive home. You continue to inspire and delight us. Now stop calling me mom. It's way too soon to give up the mama moniker.

Love,
Mama