Open Dis A Me?

This kid.

A few weeks ago a friend confessed that she thinks he's the cutest of our kids, and I think she's right. It's a weapon he wields with great craftiness..... He has everyone wrapped around his little pudgy fingers, including his rough-and-tumble big brother and sister, whom he takes advantage of regularly. For instance, they are good at opening small packages of crackers or fruit snacks or Skittles. He is not. His mother will open said packages occasionally, but when she says "no," he needs only walk a few steps over to Sister, hold out the package, and sweetly implore, "Open dis a me?" Then voila, she complies with surprising speed, deftly passing the prized sweets into his little fist just as I manage to descend upon the rascals, helpless to prevent him from shoving the sugar-laden snacks into his mouth and unable to punish Helpful Big Sister who is looking up with sweet, innocent eyes. (No, not totally innocent - in fact, I can't help but wonder how she is suddenly a person who immediately acts upon requests when it usually takes us grown-ups three or four rounds before she finally "hears" and complies...) Meanwhile, our youngest bedimpled con artist has gulped his prize and is digging again in the cabinet for another snack and then headed toward Big Brother for a little more "open dis a me"... (and Halloween was an especial misery, as the child developed an incredible ability to locate candy in spite of my efforts to squirrel it all away. On top of that, Sister seemed to enjoy feeding him all the candy that she didn't want to eat, so I kept finding the two of them up in her closet, surrounded by empty candy wrappers and dripping with red and green and chocolate-colored sugar-drool.)

But in spite of that, it's hard to stay mad at a kid who is so full of life and joy and energy and passion. He is often too rough, but then he is quick to realize that he has caused hurt and he doesn't hesitate to offer penitent gentle touches and sweet snuggles and coos of kind toddler concern. And when he loves something, he Really Loves It. I picked up a used balance bike for him this weekend (after a week of much loudly-expressed torment over his inability to 'ride' Sarah's bike without help), and he has ridden that thing everywhere, ever since. He even packed it in the van to take with us to the restaurant last night (thank goodness he didn't demand to bring it in... I mean, Rosa's is a good place to bring unruly kids, but that would have been a stretch).

He loves his people, too - especially his Paps, who has decidedly been his Favorite Person for all of Andrew's short life. Lately, when we get into the car to go anywhere, Andrew almost always demands that we "go see Paps" and chants his demand repeatedly in spite of any answer that I might give him. The chanting is a new trick that he picked up recently (probably from his favorite siblings/tutors). Any time he wants something, he chants it over and over at the top of his (incredibly loud) voice. "SEE PAPS! SEE PAPS! SEE PAPS!" and "PLAY-GROUND! PLAY-GROUND! PLAY-GROUND!" and "CHICK-EN! CHICK-EN! CHICK-EN!" This often happens in the van. So you will forgive me if I start wearing earbuds while I drive the kids around town...

I find it nearly impossible to remember what the other two kids were like "at this age" and thus to compare them with Andrew (which is probably a good thing, come to think of it...), but I swear the other two were no where near as verbal as Andrew is - he talks all. the. time. Before he turned two, he had quite a decent vocabulary that wasn't too difficult to understand, but then after September, he suddenly launched into a whole new stage of sentences paragraphs novellas that were full of inflection and (I'm sure) deep wisdom - but entirely unintelligible to me or anyone else. At first I was bewildered and a little concerned - did he have a stroke? I used to know what he was saying! - but as the weeks passed, he has improved enough that we are all starting to understand him once again. And perhaps sometimes wishing we didn't... ha ha...

It is especially entertaining to hear him repeating stuff from Bible class - such as identifying the Daddy, Mommy, and Baby of Everything (Daddy Elephant, Mommy Elephant, Baby Elephant; Daddy Bite, Mommy Bite, Baby Bite; Daddy Pencil, Mommy Pencil, Baby Pencil...). Or calling the moon "sunandmoon" after the phrase from the Creation Song. Or singing his Favorite Song of All Time, "Happy Durf Day!" (Today it was really fun since it actually IS Daddy's Durf Day and so Andrew could give him a special performance at the breakfast table that actually made sense.)

Andrew also loves to sing along with me at bedtime, and while this is sometimes annoying because it means he is Awake and not Asleep as I wish he would be, it also melts my heart just about every time to hear his sweet echoes of "Jesus Loves Me" and "You Are My Sunshine." That kid really does know how to sneak into a person's good graces, even in his most mischievous moments.

This last weekend, we began the dreaded Potty Training. This is probably my least favorite part of raising young kids... even if it does bring with it the hope of not changing dirty diapers any more... To be honest, I've been putting it off in spite of the fact that Andrew has been showing readiness for some weeks now. I finally caved when his preschool teachers mentioned it to me on Thursday; public shame is always a fail-proof motivator for me.

But as I purchased the big box of Pull-Ups and began to think about where to put all the extra leftover diapers, I realized that I wasn't putting this off purely on account of laziness; in fact, I am shocked to admit that potty training Andrew feels like a true Closing the Door on Babies that I wasn't expecting. I packed away the crib a few weeks ago without a tear or second thought. We weaned with rejoicing. I've already given away half of the baby clothes. But somehow, giving up diapers is one step too far. And I surely didn't expect that to be the case, but there it is.

Thankfully, though, no amount of potty training or talking or any other sign of physical or emotional independence will change the fact that this boy will always be my baby... That's right, I said it. The Greatest Cliche of All Time. But as so often is the case, now that I'm there, I totally get it. (And Lord, don't think I've missed the fact that Andrew is the snuggliest of the three. You always know what we need.)

So here's to a boy growing bigger and faster every day. And here's to a momma who will do her best not to hold him back - but will nevertheless hold him close every step of the way.