Life According to Little Man

In the few months since Little Man has turned three, he has changed more than ever. Along with the bumpy road that is self-regulation, there has been a remarkable shift in the workings of his mind. He has grown so much in his ability to soak up the world around him and interpret it in his own unique way. While his stubborn drive to do things himself or indulge his curiosity at inopportune times (like needing to get out the door) can cause me to need to take some extra deep breaths, I also find I'm intrigued and amused by him constantly.

His humor has become more pronounced and intentional. Some of what he says makes me laugh for reasons he doesn't understand, but some of his remarks are absolutely about nailing the joke. Granted, he doesn't hear quite what I hear as he attempts to sing metal songs in the bathtub; he does know that mimicking my tone or making silly faces will be a hit. As a teacher I can only hope he learns to use his powers for good.

Lately I'm more in awe of his memory and his connections between ideas. He still talks about Husband's return from deployment, and this morning he mentioned a particular activity at a place we hadn't been to in months. He creates elaborate stories that typically feature dinosaurs and superheroes (and often food). Perhaps that is because of his suspicion of any new foods, which will only be consumed if they pass his (literal) sniff test. Thankfully his kind heart is also shining through. If I ask him how he is doing, he will often answer and then ask me the same. He may not always be regulated at daycare, but he is known for being a helper; when I pick him up I usually have to wait while he and his friends hug good-bye. When he thinks one of us might have gotten hurt he will ask if we are ok; after accidentally grazing Husband's temple with a wayward foot during an overly enthusiastic gymnastics move, he reached over with a gentle touch to make the owie feel better.

I don't know what to expect from this kid since I have no comparison. Maybe I'm just overly impressed and biased by something unexceptionally typical. However, I am starting to understand what people mean by seeing things through their children's eyes. Before him I wouldn't have listed "silly" as a particularly pronounced trait of mine, but now here I am dancing with him to Shakira in the living room (and no, I'm not one to tear it up on a dance floor) or laughing at his nonsensical jokes. Reading some of the same books over and over again isn't necessarily fun, but hearing him try to read along and recognizing phrases or parts makes it better. This age certainly brings all extremes, and I look forward to when all I remember about this age is how much I smiled with and because of him.