I don't even know where to begin with this month's letter. I guess it's best to just say that you have become a child of contradictions.
You are the most fun and the most irritating person I've ever been around. You are the sweetest, most cuddly little boy only seconds before becoming the most whiny little tantrum-thrower. I'm inclined to believe this is the two-year-old in you and not the Patrick in you because if I'm wrong, you're going to drive all of us batty before you hit junior high, where you probably will anyway.
There are moments when you are about as easygoing and compliant as they come. The other night you were already asleep when the 4th of July fireworks began, but Daddy and I thought you might enjoy watching them so Daddy woke you up from a deep sleep. When he nudged you and whispered, "Boom, boom" in your ear, you easily smiled at him and asked, "Boom, boom?" right back. "Yeah, Dad, what is making that boom boom noise?" Even though it was the middle of the night to you, you were absolutely charming as you stood with us in the driveway watching the light show the nearby country club put on for us. You didn't even put up a fight when the show ended and we put you back to bed.
Unfortunately, you aren't that resilient all the time. For example, the other day Daddy washed the kitchen floor, going to the extent of moving the table and chairs as well. When we replaced the table, we left off the vase of flowers that you tend to play with during meals, which bugs both Daddy and me. The second you sat down to the next meal, you threw the biggest fit. You refused to even look at your food until the vase had been replaced. It had only been moved a few feet, but your sense of normalcy was thrown off, and you couldn't cope with the change.
Lately your language has really been taking off as well. You have a nearly endless vocabulary and seem to learn a dozen new words each day. For a kid with language delays, you seem to talk an awful lot. More and more you are able to communicate what you want and need quite effectively. Of course, that doesn't keep you from throwing tantrums anytime you don't get what you want. Still, I think your ECI teacher is continually amazed at the progress you're making. You may still be behind other kids your age, but you're making fast strides in catching up. It won't be long before all the frustrations with your talking (or lack thereof) will be a thing of the past.
You've surprised me in the last few weeks with how much typical preschool knowledge you've picked up here and there. I suspect a good part of it is due to your favorite show, but mere mentions of shapes and colors from me seem to spark something in your brain and you repeat that shape or color for days after. I know you know at least a few of your colors and most of your shapes, even if it takes a specialized toddler translator to clarify what you are saying. You know a few of your letters at least, and I have a feeling you know more of your numbers than you're letting on. When you start preschool, you're going to be right on track with all your peers.
Although you can be quite violent at times (I hope unintentionally) to all of us, you have started showing your love more often. It's common for you to stop what you're doing for a minute to crawl into my lap or Daddy's lap just to give us a hug. It's now part of your nighttime routine to kiss your brother good night before you climb into bed yourself. You even give Amber hugs any time we remind you to be gentle with her. I'm not sure if this is what has prompted her devotion to you or your insistence upon dropping food over the side of the table when you think Daddy and I aren't watching. Either way, this new loving side of you has to be my favorite yet. There's nothing quite like getting to snuggle with you for a few minutes after your nap, something initiated entirely by you and not done against your will--because I know it won't be long before the only snuggles I get from you are stolen.
It amazes me to see how far you've come in the past two years, nine months. It's difficult to see this active toddler, this totally normal active toddler, and remember the tiny, fragile little thing you used to be. I've heard that once you're a preemie mom, you're always a preemie mom, but I don't entirely believe that. Those days when you were so little are long past, and I can barely remember them anymore. When I do, it's hard to connect you to that baby. Until I see you around your gargantuan peers, I would never guess you were ever a preemie. It amazes me to think how little pain I have left from your early days. This new amazing you has healed all that pain you unintentionally caused by showing up so early. I think you give hope to preemie moms everywhere.
I can't believe you're growing up so fast, you crazy nut. I'm cherishing all these goofy moments with you--in between the tantrums anyway--because any day now I'll be the mom to a surly teenager who believes parents are the spawn of Satan. Hopefully when that happens, I'll be able to transport myself back in time through the pictures I've taken and blog posts I've written to relive your silly days of insisting "Doddledo" has a diaper on and wanting Daddy to help you do headstands. Besides, how else do you expect me to embarrass you, your friends, and your girlfriends when you're rolling your eyes at your totally uncool parents ten years from now?
Lately your language has really been taking off as well. You have a nearly endless vocabulary and seem to learn a dozen new words each day. For a kid with language delays, you seem to talk an awful lot. More and more you are able to communicate what you want and need quite effectively. Of course, that doesn't keep you from throwing tantrums anytime you don't get what you want. Still, I think your ECI teacher is continually amazed at the progress you're making. You may still be behind other kids your age, but you're making fast strides in catching up. It won't be long before all the frustrations with your talking (or lack thereof) will be a thing of the past.
You've surprised me in the last few weeks with how much typical preschool knowledge you've picked up here and there. I suspect a good part of it is due to your favorite show, but mere mentions of shapes and colors from me seem to spark something in your brain and you repeat that shape or color for days after. I know you know at least a few of your colors and most of your shapes, even if it takes a specialized toddler translator to clarify what you are saying. You know a few of your letters at least, and I have a feeling you know more of your numbers than you're letting on. When you start preschool, you're going to be right on track with all your peers.
Although you can be quite violent at times (I hope unintentionally) to all of us, you have started showing your love more often. It's common for you to stop what you're doing for a minute to crawl into my lap or Daddy's lap just to give us a hug. It's now part of your nighttime routine to kiss your brother good night before you climb into bed yourself. You even give Amber hugs any time we remind you to be gentle with her. I'm not sure if this is what has prompted her devotion to you or your insistence upon dropping food over the side of the table when you think Daddy and I aren't watching. Either way, this new loving side of you has to be my favorite yet. There's nothing quite like getting to snuggle with you for a few minutes after your nap, something initiated entirely by you and not done against your will--because I know it won't be long before the only snuggles I get from you are stolen.
It amazes me to see how far you've come in the past two years, nine months. It's difficult to see this active toddler, this totally normal active toddler, and remember the tiny, fragile little thing you used to be. I've heard that once you're a preemie mom, you're always a preemie mom, but I don't entirely believe that. Those days when you were so little are long past, and I can barely remember them anymore. When I do, it's hard to connect you to that baby. Until I see you around your gargantuan peers, I would never guess you were ever a preemie. It amazes me to think how little pain I have left from your early days. This new amazing you has healed all that pain you unintentionally caused by showing up so early. I think you give hope to preemie moms everywhere.
I can't believe you're growing up so fast, you crazy nut. I'm cherishing all these goofy moments with you--in between the tantrums anyway--because any day now I'll be the mom to a surly teenager who believes parents are the spawn of Satan. Hopefully when that happens, I'll be able to transport myself back in time through the pictures I've taken and blog posts I've written to relive your silly days of insisting "Doddledo" has a diaper on and wanting Daddy to help you do headstands. Besides, how else do you expect me to embarrass you, your friends, and your girlfriends when you're rolling your eyes at your totally uncool parents ten years from now?But you know what? I'll love you even then, and that humiliation will stem from love. Yes, really.
Love,
Mommy
1 comment:
I love the pictures of the goofy Patrick! I see his continues his preference for few clothes. That will be enough to embarrass the teen version of Patrick! :)
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