Monday, November 30, 2009


Well I am couple days over due, but I suppose that is okay.

You my dear boy, are a true little boy now. The icky things amuse you. Body noises, boogers, anything gross can always bring a giggle. And sometimes you make up songs about them. I roll my eyes and try to ignore it. Hopefully this is just a phase.

You are not a big eater. Sometimes you go for meals just picking at your food. I wonder how it is you have been able to keep packing on the pounds and gaining height. You still hate meat. It takes you ten minutes to chew one bite of chicken. This is a huge source of contention at meal times.

However you are still growing and I think right now you are on a growth spurt. The past few nights you have woken up with leg cramps. You are well into the 4T size and size 11 shoes. I have to buy you size 5T jammies so that you have room for your toes in the footies. You have reached 39lbs on the scale and are a hair under 42 inches.

You have started recognizing more and more letters and numbers. You blew me away about a week ago when we pulled up to a friends house and you just randomly read me off the numbers on her house. "One-one-three-oh." You also like to point out the giant numbers at Walmart that they have advertising prices. You are starting to sound out very simple words in your bob books with only a few hints every now and then.

You have settled in quite well to your big boy room here at home. We no longer share a wall and I have to admit I miss your wall knocking at night as you are falling asleep.
You have chores that you are responsible for. Your jobs include, folding your underwear and putting all of your clothes in the right drawers. Bringing all of your dirty laundry out to the washer, feeding and watering the dog, loading your dishes in the dishwasher, unloading all of the silverware, bringing the garbage can back from the street on garbage day, picking up your toys before bed and making your bed in the morning. You do most of these things with a happy heart and actually like doing some of them.

You still love to cuddle. Our bedtime ritual is reading about a bazillion books before bed cuddled up on the couch. And even then it is "Just one more mommy!" But I let you pick out one or two and take those to bed to read with your flashlight. We read the more simple books while Bug is still awake and then once she is in bed, we will dive into some more difficult books. I have started reading chapter books that have less and less pictures and you seem to be able to understand because I quiz you periodically to see if you are getting what is going on.

You are a saver. Money, food, broken toys. You will have one swallow of your water in your cup and you will want to put it in the fridge and "save it for later." I let you keep one piece of pizza for a few days to see how long you would nibble away at it. You would take it out every once in a while take a few bites and then put it back to save it for later. I finally threw it away today. I think you have more money in your piggy bank than I have. Every coin you find, you ask if you can have it and it goes straightaway into the piggy.

You love to "mother" your little sister. I constantly find you correcting her and I have to remind you that it is my job to tell her not to jump on the couch.

You have started Cubbies. And with your steel trap memory have had no problem remembering the verses. I can give you a reference today of one of your earlier verses and you spout it right off. One of your favorite games is What time is it Mr Frog and you make me play it at home all the time. The week after you got your vest, you were chosen to hold the flag for the pledge of allegiance. On the way home you told me how proud you were to be able to do that. You are such a proud little American.

We were recently given a trampoline that is maybe 45 inches in diameter. From the time we got it on Sunday, you did not stop jumping for a week except to eat and sleep. And even at that, the first night I woke up in the middle of the night to find you jumping on it. You tell me it is how you get your "hoo haa's" out.

You have such a funny way with words. Just this last week you asked me to come look at your "bad-mamma-jamma" poop, told me you wanted to be a fire truck when you grow up, and told me you had "come from Alabama with a banjo on your knee." I really need to start writing these down in a book.

Your hair is well below your brow line and into your eyes and it does not bother you at all. It doesn't bother me either. You have become acustomed to doing a head flip to get it back. You tell people you love your long beautiful hair because it keeps the sun out of your eyes. I suggest a hair cut and you are very adamant about not getting one. You tell me I can trim the back, but not the front. It is fine. I love your hair.

You are still such a sweet and caring little boy. And when you are not terrorizing your little sister you really can be kind and loving to her.

And each night before I leave your room, you ask me to say one last thing before I close the door;
"I love you baby boy..."