Collar vs. Collared

As Peter was getting ready for work...

PK: OK Des, I have to put on a collared shirt.

DK: Oh! Then you'll be a dog!

Turning Three

Desmond turned three on September 8th. We combined a cook-out with some neighbors with a birthday party for him. Since he doesn't like cake, I made a donut tower instead. Then on his proper birthday Grandma came up (it was her birthday too!) and we celebrated again. I underestimated how much fun it would be watching him enjoy being "special." I was also really touched to see how excited he was that it was Grandma's birthday, not just his own.

I can't believe we've been parents for three years now. Life as a parent is so much more satisfying and fulfilling than I imagined. I'm really grateful for my family.

Our Canary

It's no secret that Peter and I have some fundamental, philisophical disagreements about air conditioning. Without going into many details, I will say while Peter doesn't mind the heat, he detests the humidity. Have I reminded you recently that we live in the Washington DC area? Humidity? It's not the Amazon, but sometimes I think it comes close.

Well, we've finally discovered our canary in the mine. If your cough drops start dissolving, you probably ought to turn on the AC.

Exulated

At dinner Peter was explaining to Desmond how he makes coffee at work. Desmond thought "mug" was a really funny word and didn't know what it was. We got out a glass and a mug and began comparing the two.

PK: And sometimes a mug is insulated.

DK: Then a glass is EXulated!

Not quite, but points for creativity.

Rough housing

I've definitely hit a wall in terms of my mobility and energy this pregnancy. It's difficult to make myself rest instead of getting things done during Des' naptime. Now I'm earnestly on the hunt for fun activities for Des that require little from me.

All of this makes me extra grateful for Peter. He and Desmond have been getting closer lately, partially because Dad plays with him a lot more vigorously than I do. Des is learning the joy of rough housing, although he still does it best with adults who know when to stop. :-)

A photo series of one of their many games:

Good Reads

Do you use Good Reads? It's a social networking site that allows you to rate and comment on books you've read and then see what your friends are reading as well.

I've been on Good Reads for a while now and really enjoy the suggestions and comments my friends have on books they're reading. If you haven't signed up, I'd encourage you to consider it. (It hooks up with Facebook, in case that's a selling point for you.) Don't forget to find me on there!

Potty Talk

Desmond is pretty much toilet trained now. I usually avoid potty talk around non-parents, but some of the things he's said along the way can't be kept to myself.

About two weeks into the whole process, he got very picky about how we celebrated his success in the #2 department.

DK: (stern voice) Mom, you may not cheer for me. But I will take the juice box.

(Seriously?!?! Why not just leave for college now!!)

Overheard after another successful #2 episode:

DK: That's hilarious! Gravity pulled it [the poop] down.

Pivotal Moments

Today we went to the library. Desmond has a few favorite books he likes to habitually check out. Today, Freight Train, by Donald Crews was on his mind.

Wanting to encourage him to explore first, I convinced Desmond to find some other books for us to read before we found Freight Train. As we read a different book, Des looked up and an expression of sheer panic seized him. Another family had chosen Freight Train and was reading it at a nearby table.

I explained they might end up taking the book home with them. He might not get to check-out Freight Train this time. "We were here first," he said with a quivering voice. True, I replied, but they got to the book before we did.

His lip trembled. His wide eyes filled with tears. He looked personally affronted. The next three minutes were character shaping.

I expected a tantrum. I expected him to forcibly take the book away. Instead, Des collected himself and we finished reading the other book. He asked if we could look for another copy of Freight Train. We did and found none. He stared at the other child longingly - dejection written all over his face. No tantrum. No show of force.

As it turns out, there was a special display of Donald Crews books that day (explaining why it wasn't on the shelf). There were THREE more copies of Freight Train, much to Desmond's delight.

Three minutes is an eternity for a 3 year old. I think it took the self-control equivalent of an Olympic athlete for Desmond to respond the way he did. I am so proud of my son.