Month forty-six

Dear Henry,

We went camping, Bean! Twice! And you met your cousins! And we saw starfish(!) and sea snails(!) and barnacles(!) and mussels(!) and sea anemones(!) and crabs(!) and waves(!) and sand(!) and limpets(!) and gooseneck barnacles(!) and seaweed(!) and, well, it was all very exciting. Did I mention there were s'mores? Because we made those, too. Although, truth be told I think you preferred to eat all the components separately rather than eat the traditional melted and gooey smooshed together end product.

Oddly enough there was also a panda theme over the last month. Grandma Nondas sent you a stuffed panda from her travels around the world and we quickly invented a game that incorporated the Kung Fu Panda 2 movie we recently saw on the big screen. Note to would-be players, this game needs to be played on a bed (or like surface) with a big stack of pillows. You need one person to be the voice and hold the stuffed panda, one stuffed panda, and at least one almost-a-preschooler toddler. To play, hold the panda in front of the big pile of pillows stacked at one end of the bed. The almost-a-preschooler toddler needs to stand at the opposite end of the bed facing the panda and pillows. The voice then says, "I'm going to kung fun panda your butt!" while making the stuffed panda do a little dance. At this point, the almost-a-preschooler toddler rushes toward the panda. A second before the almost-a-preschool toddler reaches the panda, the panda operator pulls the panda out of the way so that the almost-a-preschooler toddler slams into the pile of pillows. And there you have it, an inside game that can keep your almost-a-preschooler toddler occupied for minutes at a time. What I learned? You can kung fu panda a butt a whole lotta times in fifteen minutes.

I am somewhat disappointed to report that our outdoor swim lessons did not fare any better than our last round of indoor swim lessons. I can't quite reconcile your love of all things ocean and water with your lack of interest in getting into the pool. Makes no sense to me, Bug. Am I pushing too hard? Am I not pushing hard enough? It's hard to know but it seems like if there is ever a time to relax about things, it is now when you're three. Well, nearly four but still, you're a little dude. I'm fairly certain I could get you into the water if the aquatic team would just let me throw a hermit crab in there with you but am doubtful they would even entertain that option. So, we'll try again later this year.

Your language continues to impress me, your mood is consistently upbeat (except around five o'clock in the afternoon on those days when you really, really, really need a nap but refuse to take one), and you can and will gab to anyone anywhere about the various sea creatures and bugs you saw if given the opportunity.

We caught the Old Fashioned Days parade again this year. Man, do you love a parade. Cars, fire trucks, people throwing candy. Your cousin Mia is a champion candy picker-upper. She put you to shame, son. I mean, seriously. While you stood contemplating the best piece of sugary goodness to grab from the latest batch thrown over to where we were situated at the curb, she was in the road grabbing 'em all. A few days later you came up with the term "candy cars" to describe the parade cars plus candy experience. I think you'd quite enjoy meeting a candy car every day. One other notable word creation - bumbleant. While walking up to the grocery store, we saw a smallish bug that was buzzing around a flower like a bee but looked more like an ant. You're inquisitive and clever, little one. Oh, and last month we cut your hair. It had gotten so long you had to hold both sides back when bending over to check out, well, the plethora of items you find to look at on the ground. Now you can go forth and look on in wonder, Bean.

Love,
Mama