Month Thirty-three

Dear Henry,

If we had to act out our last month together, it'd go a little something like this: "Mama, you <insert whatever it is you want me to do here>. Okay?!" And later, "Hen, it's time for bed." "No, not yet." You are definitely becoming one confident little young man, and demanding in a way that hasn't been quite this demanding before. Somewhere along the way, you picked up "nope" and "yep" and added them to your expanding vocabulary. Unfortunately, you also picked up a few of your mother's road rage moments, although you only broke this choice phrase out once after hearing another driver (not directed at me, I should add) honk his horn, "Oh, f#$@ing dick." Um, yeah. That's my fault. On the bright side, your language skills mean we are that much closer to doing a remake of that Will Ferrell "Landlord" skit I love. While in the Mexico you discovered backpacks. Avery has the cutest little ladybug backpack and she was super great about sharing it, which meant you would often track me down and request I help you put it on. The point is, that you liked it so much I gave you the backpack I'd bought and been saving for you once we were home. You didn't seem at all dismayed that it wasn't a ladybug (it's a lion). In fact, you got right to work filling it up. For whatever reason, you feel inclined to pack several old baby spoons. And then you stuff the rest of the space with Teanie Beanie Babies, two ribbons that are your wormies, and your newly adopted toy garden snake named Maggie. The reason you have so many of the Beanie Babies is because you discovered where they were (in a box in your closet) and would occasionally raid the closet on nights when we put you to bed when you weren't ready to sleep. On one such night, I came into the room to find a pile of four or five individually wrapped Beanie Babies in the middle of your bed. You initially denied getting into said closet but upon further grilling, you told the truth. To reward you for telling the truth, however belated the truth was in its arrival, you got to open one of the many that you had collected. Oh, you finally - FINALLY! - have started riding your bike. The one that has been sitting since we got it for you nearly a year ago. We adjusted the seat a touch higher so it's more comfortable and moved the handlebars to allow for more advanced steering. You call it your motorcycle. I find it a little disturbing that you seem hellbent on driving directly into the walls around the condo but I'm hopeful this is just a phase, one that will be corrected when you're out on the open road. In order to get where you want, you typically avoid driving into walls. I'm just sayin'.
A few days ago you celebrated your 1000th day on the planet. We had a party at the park and lots of your friends came. I saw you running to and fro, every once in awhile you'd come in for a quick hug or to nibble on some food and be on your way again. So much to see and do, so little time. I love your exuberance, Hen. It's one of the most awesome things about you. Even if it does often make me very, very tired. You took one look at the cake and declared that there was a dinosaur and a robot on it. (Close, kiddo, it's a dragon and a knight). Eventually the party ended with a balloon chase and near tears. If we were commune living folks, I think you'd rather enjoy it. You love having your friends around, even when sharing your toys is so very hard to do.We are both participating in the summer reading program. You got a READ! tattoo that was on your arm so long you now have a pasty white spot where it adhered to your skin. (It looks like you tan well, little one.) I taught you to say, "Check out my tat!", which you'd say whenever someone noticed there was something on your arm. When you completed the first section, we hit the library for some new books and your first (of three) prize. Instead of selecting the ball or one of the other toys in the box, you picked out a book. I so hope this love of reading lasts a lifetime. The books you really like, the ones we read over and over and over again, you remember later on and will retell the story to me or jump in with the punch line as we're reading it during our nightly bedtime read-a-thon. One or two books isn't enough for you. Oh no, we're in the seven to ten range and sometimes more than that.

We spent several days at various parks in the PDX metro area. Each trip lasting several hours as we lounged in the shade reading and playing with the toys you had packed in your backpack and throwing around the frisbee. And eating licorice. You have developed quite the sweet tooth. It's to the point that your pops and I have to move the candy drawer. And really, the licorice was only once. We don't always have that on hand because if we did I'm pretty sure that's all you'd want to eat. You hate hiccups. They really freak you out. Whenever you get them you come running, your hiccups chasing you along the way, and you scream for milk or water or something to drink. You only calm down after they subside. Oh, you gained a percentage point for weight! Since you have been eating us out of house and home most nights, it wasn't that surprising to hear but still, good eating, Bean! You remain our greatest treasure, Bug.

Love,
Mama