March 2014: 42 months (3 years and 6 months)

 

Dear Patrick,

• We watched the Disney movie “Frozen” this month and you and I love the soundtrack, which your Dad tolerates.  We play it through his speakers in the office and I spin you around in the rolly-chair or in my arms and we sing at the top of our lungs.  Over and over..."Let it go!"
• You and I played a game where we made Coop “the monster” and our mission was to run from the couch to the bed without the monster catching us.  Poor Coop. He  just wanted to be in whatever room we chose, so he followed us smiling and wagging his tail as we ran screaming back and forth around the house. I humor most of the games you want me to play, but this one I actually enjoyed even though I was totally out of breath! 
• I went to Macon this month alone - without you or your father.  It was Omi’s birthday and Pop threw a great party!  I have a beautiful photo of your grandparents from that evening at Natalia’s restaurant that I’m going to frame.  And even though it wasn’t my birthday, it was a real gift to me to be able to spend time with two of my favorite people. We had a couple of really nice days together for which I’m very grateful.  
• In three and a half years, sleep for you has never been a problem that we couldn’t solve with a pat on the back or an extra song. But this month, your father and I had to enforce rules we never felt needed to be created: 1) lights off.  2) Close eyes and lie down.  3) Stay in bed. Rule # 3 actually proved to be the hardest. It sounds so simple but after finding you asleep (hidden) in our room, then on the living room couch, then slung over the arm of the chair in your room, and then curled into the tiniest ball on the kitchen bar-stool (yes, seriously!) -- it became obvious that your bed was no longer your first choice. So, we had a talk with you...many talks actually (and some tears too), but after an intense week and a half, everything now seems to be back on track. You might wake in the middle of the night and ask for water or because the zipper of your PJs got stuck (yep, that was reason to yell at 4:00am), but you go back to sleep now. And the magic bunny clock has begun to help too.  
• We introduced the idea of “the pillow” to you six month ago when you got your big boy bed, but you had no need or patience for it. Then suddenly on 3/22, we offered you the pillow and you basically asked where it had been your whole life.  I love to watch the monitor and see your head nestled in a cloud of fluff.
• This was also a month that we discovered the extent of your tantrum abilities, or as I’ve come to see it: a complete and utter loss of control from your emotions in which you disappear and a crazed lunatic, void of reason, takes your place. Considering the horror stories I’ve heard about other toddlers, we should happy - proud even - that we can basically count your major meltdowns on one hand. But oh boy these were doozies that required real stamina: 1) you wanting to put the battery toy in the bathtub, 2) your father asking you to sit in your car seat in order to leave from Nana and Papa’s house, 3) the morning I ate your waffle after you said I could, and 4) your Dad shaking off your penis after a pee before you could do it yourself. These were all major throw-downs in the Byrd house, and ultimately situations that couldn't be fixed with reason - we just had to let the crazy flow and ride it out.  We also worked to remember the basic rule of tantrum 101, which is to flat out ignore. Ultimately, your father and I became deaf and blind for a week, but it worked.  
• I know there were many wonderful, beautiful things that happened this month, but I haven’t captured much more than the above notes. Your father and I have focused primarily on our battle plan with sleep and tantrums. Till this month - never have the cliches about toddlers made so much sense.

I love you, my little crazed caveman! 

February 2014: 41 months (3 years and 5 months)

 
Dear Patrick,

• On Sunday 2/9, you rolled out of your bed and hit the floor with a thump and never woke up. We heard the sound all the way from our room and turned on the video monitor. Sure enough, there you were laying in a heap on the rug, sleeping soundly.  Your dad walked down the hall, picked you up and put you back in bed without ever waking you up.  
• You like to tell “progressive stories” now which involve the whole family.  We usually start the story, “Once upon a time…” and you add to the tale.  Your father and I give the story structure and usually an ending, but you never like it to end and keep it going by saying, “...But then one day and evil witch came...”  (There is always an evil witch.)
• I took you to play at the Richards house after work 2/21 and you and Ginny told the best progressive story ever.  I think David recorded it and I need to get my hands on that audio to keep forever.  
• Your school declared snow days on Tuesday 2/11 and Wednesday 2/12 for which we sent you to your grandparent’s house. Then on 2/13 we got you home again in time to make a snowman before the snow melted the next day.
• Sonny and Katie; Jono and Jack; and Janis came into town for a visit mid month, which was a lot of fun! Having dinner cooked and ready for us by Katie and Janis was a real treat.  Oh, and you got some cool clothes from your cool NYC aunt and uncle!  We missed Jen but will get to see her in April!
• Your father and I sprang for gas logs in the fireplace this month, which makes the living room cozy.  “Do not touch,” you warn us (as if we are the curious three and a half year olds).
• On 2/26 you were in the bathtub and told me, “Mom, my penis volcano is about to erupt!”  I had no idea what to say, but interpreting your metaphor, I pulled you out of the water so that you could pee in the potty.  Then I laughed so hard and texted your Dad immediately.  Penis volcano. Awesome.  
• You had your first REAL tantrum when you cried because we would not let you put a toy with a battery in the bathtub. Honestly, you are so rational all the time that I forget that in reality your brain is like that of a caveman. You were inconsolable and sobbed so hard you couldn’t get your breath.  The whole ordeal lasted on and off almost two hours.  Let’s just say that when the bath water finally drained from the tub, I wanted to be washed away with it.
• As we were driving home from school near the end of this month, I heard you singing to yourself. We established after some discussion that you had made up the song.  I told you how creative you were and how much I liked it.  You said humbly, “Oh, Mom, thats just called blue-grass.” 
  

January 2014: 40 months (3 years and 4 months)

Dear Patrick,

• There was a power outage the evening of Wednesday January 8th around 6:30pm at night that left our house without any electricity or heat.  My immediate impulse was book a hotel, but your father (the boy scout) lit candles and huddled us into the back bedroom where it is was well insulated.  The city thought they could have the power back on by midnight, so your father tucked us into bed, and he stood watch in the kitchen reading by candle light.  (I had to wear ear plugs you snored so loud!) When the house came back “on,” we moved your sleeping body back to your room - seamless transition.  
• Michael came through Greenville on his way to Mexico mid month to start his post as a Foreign Service Officer.  It was sad to see him go, but great to get an extra hug good-bye.
• “May you get me some Ninja Turtle gummies, please” you say to me after school most days.  Its so funny...and really polite!
• Your father went to the Bar Convention in Kiawah for four days this month and you and I had a lot of fun together.  The Whitehead twins were born on 1/24 Friday evening, so we invited Rivers to play for the majority of the day on Saturday.  It was the first time with silly string and you guys loved it.  It was also the first time we tried a sleep-over for nap, but that failed. You and Rivers just whispered together in the dark and I had to keep coming into the room reminding you not to talk. This lasted for about an hour, and then I gave up and let you both stop pretending to sleep.
• You dropped your plastic spoon in the gallon milk container one morning while we were having breakfast.  The top of the milk was open and it was asking for it.  I mean, your spoon fit perfectly inside - how could you not, right?  You do a million things a day that I don’t write down, but for some reason this particular moment was funny to me.  I saw it happen in slow motion and my “nooo - don’t drop it” was pointless.  Its still rattling around in there.
• I like the “living sand” we bought you this month.  I might like playing with it more than you.
• “Bye, babe” you said to me as I was leaving the house the morning of 1/10.  Your father and I met each others eyes across the dining room and smirked.  Jeeez you are funny!
• Your school called me mid-day on Monday 1/27 to tell me you had a fever and needed to go to the doctor.  Thankfully it wasn’t the flu (which has been going around).  Either way your father and I traded working from home half days on Tuesday 1/28.  We watched a lot of “Little Einsteins.”  Key phrase for that day: Triple play on demand.
• Then it snowed Wednesday 1/29, giving all of us a “snow day.”  I will say that it is much easier to go to the office to work than trying to “work from home” with you in the background. On Thursday when there was still no school for you, we sent you to Sharon's house.
• You’ve woken up a few times this month on the weekend early (6:30am!).  We tell you that its not time to get up but allow you play quietly in your room, which totally works!  It doesn't even occur to you to object, you just comply.  I swear - is there a better child than you on the planet?
  
  
  

December 2013: 39 months (3 years and 3 months)

 Dear Patrick,

• Your father asked you not to kick the back of the passenger seat in the car.  So, you softly touched the back of the seat with your foot and asked, “is that ok?” over and over again, experimenting with different pressures. The line between “touching” and “kicking” is very thin, and you are determined to find it.  
• I believe you know your left from your right.  Of course, it is 50/50 chance, but I ask you most mornings when I put your shoes on your feet, and you have gotten it correct every time! (Reminder: it is important to say “correct” - not “right” - when trying to teach this or it becomes a routine from Abbott and Costello…"Yes! Your left foot is right!"
• One of my favorite quotes you’ve said this month is: “The reindeer came to the cave of the elf bears and it made the elf bears really angry.  You have to watch out for elf bears.”  Please, please watch out for Elf Bears.
• Your father swears that you will do anything if we ask in a robot voice, which forces you to become a robot yourself.  Frankly, the idea that you can mimic a robot’s cadence is extraordinary.  (I mean, you still believe that a question mark is an actual person named Mark.) How is it possible that you can pretend to talk like a robot and do it so well?!
• One evening over dinner, you announced that we are a family of dinosaurs, and that you are a “Milk-a-saurus.”
• You love to build a fort (or snake house) out of pillows.  You can do this for hours and regularly destroy all of our couches and beds.
• I received a frantic text from your father on the morning of Thursday 12/19 as he was dropping you off at school that said we forgot "the sprinkles," and that (in all caps) “I don’t have time for sprinkles!”  I told your dad not to worry; that delivering the school Christmas party sprinkles were scheduled for the next day.  But, oh how it made me laugh thinking about how much our text messages have changed over the years.
• Michael flew to Greenville from DC for Christmas this year and Omi and Pop came too, which made for a wonderful holiday!  You seemed to “get” the idea of Christmas and Santa, and we have a great video of you seeing your presents and the "eaten" cookies for the first time.  One of my favorite moments was when your father and I sat on your bed (with you in the middle) taking turns reading “Twas the Night before Christmas.” 
• You asked for a blue scooter from Santa and he delivered - even though you can’t actually ride it yet.  You received a loud talking/shooting robot from Gangie and Big that you absolutely love.  Pop found matching remote control helicopters that in truth entertained your father and uncle for hours.  And I was impressed by the “I Spy” book from Ed & Jenny that you can “read” in the car and on quiet mornings alone.  You are good at spotting the items and I love how proud it makes you of yourself.  A successful Christmas!
• After Christmas, I took you to Macon for a few more fun-filled days with your grandparents. We kept you busy with trips to the planetarium, a creative “football/soccer/baseball” game that we played down the hallway, the "Rascal House" Omi made, the “skating rink” around the dining room table (another Omi invention), the Macon Museum of Art (where you climbed on the same Caboose that Michael and I played on when we were your age), sliding down the stairs on your tummy, “statue hunts” in the outdoor mall, rain walks, the Go Fish memory game, Dr. Seuss stories by the fire, and the Bass Pro Shop, which was Pop’s idea.  (As an aside: I hope that when you are my age, that “going home” to visit will be a re-energizing, relaxing time for you just as it is for me with my parents. I hope it will be something you look forward to doing.  I hope you will feel supported, strong, appreciated, important and loved in our presence always.  Home should be a haven.)   
• Cooper took a vacation this month for almost 5 days - we lost him.  But due to homemade signs your father made around the neighborhood, Coop was located just a few houses down on Chick Springs Road in beagle paradise.  It was a New Year miracle to find him, that sweet old (thirteen - almost fourteen year old) dog!
• In Macon you slept on a twin mattress in the corner of your room and loved it.  I don’t know why I thought there would be a problem, but as always, you are so adaptable and easy.  You did have a bad dream on the last night we were there, and you called out in the middle of the night. I  ran to your room to assure you that everything was fine, expecting that I might need to lie down next to you.  But you took my hugs and told me you were “fine now” and then went back to sleep, assured that all was right in the world.  What a strong, calm, impressive little man you are, Patrick Byrd.

Love you,

Mom

November 2013: 38 months (3 years and 2 months)

Dear Patrick,

• You’ve named both your feet “John.”  Years from now, when you ask about this note, I will have no more explanation to give.  There seems to be no rhyme or reason.  You named your feet and you refer to them both as John.  And yes, it is as funny as it sounds.  
• You observed that, “Owl can’t have a band-aid because Owl doesn’t have hands.”
• You threw two tantrums before breakfast the morning of 11/4 because you didn’t want to wear the new pants I bought you.  (Its too cold now to wear shorts!)  So, we compromised: I let you pick your underwear and shirt, and then I picked the pants, which you accepted reluctantly.  The following week, I told you that Elephant picked those exact pants and suddenly you were fine with his choice. Elephant knows best.
• I was out of town on Friday 11/8 for my annual “girls weekend” with Aunt Jennie, Aunt Casey and Aunt Heather and your father told me that in the middle of the night, you took off all your clothes - including your diaper - and peed on your own bed.  Then you cried and asked to sleep in our bed, which you hadn’t done since you were a tiny baby (and even then it was only one time!).  I couldn’t believe it -- until it happened again on 11/10.  So, that very next day, your father and I both sat you down and explained the “rules of the night”: clothes and diaper on, own bed, and no peeing on your animal friends.  And we haven’t had a issue since (knock on wood).
• Michael and MC came to visit us from DC this month on 11/10 and you were the center of attention, which you loved, of course.  
• Gangie and Biggie have made you the proud owner of a toy weed wacker, a jet and a plastic sword, which are three of your most favorite toys.  Later in the month, they got you a yellow motorized toy convertible car.  Oh man, Santa is gonna have a hard time topping that next month.
• When I woke you up this morning, you told me you wanted to be a scuba diver.  
• I picked you up from school on 11/13 and as we were driving home, I told you that I lost my voice. You paused for a moment, looked out the window and then asked, "Could it be in the trees?" The trees were blowing, bending and the leaves were rustling and "talking."  It was such a beautiful thought that it suddenly made perfect sense to me. You are such a clever child.  Of course, my voice was being tossed around up high by the trees and it would come back to me soon.
• Your teachers at school asked you to draw what you were thankful for on a piece of paper, and then you interpreted your work.  The paper said, “Patrick is thankful for...a robot.”
• You and Sylvie played a game of hide and seek where you both hid together and the adults had no idea we were even playing until the house got too quiet and one of us realized that was game on!
• It started to snow on 11/27 but didn’t stick.
• One evening you pretended to be “the mommy” with your father.  He said you really sold it by saying to him directly, “Thanks, babe.”  
• I cut your toast into two pieces one morning and you cried silently.  You are such a sweet, sensitive soul. I didn’t even know you were upset until you got Owl to wipe away your tears. (When you resort to Owl, its serious.)  
• Jen, Jono, Jack and the pups stayed at our house over Thanksgiving week, which we celebrated at your grandparents house. Martha took a nice photo of you with your great-grandparents that I love. How amazing to be able to hug your great-grandparents!
• I asked you not to throw inside the house, and you threw a toy right in front of me, which made me ask, “Patrick, what did I just tell you?!”  You explained that I said not to throw, but that you were not throwing.  Oh no??  No, you said.  You were just “poofing.”  Basically you created a loophole by making-up another word for throwing.  Well, poofing isn’t allowed either, buddy.

October 2013: 37 months (3 years and 1 month)

Dear Patrick, 

• As I was talking into my phone in order to leave a text message for your father one afternoon, I said “question mark” at the end of my statement.  You asked loudly, “Who is Mark?  Who is Question Mark?”  I laughed so hard because I could not begin to explain the concept of punctuation to a three year old.
• You “helped” turn your crib into a big-boy bed, by which I mean, you jumped up and down with excitement and tried to hide the screws.  We converted the bed in the morning, so by nap time that afternoon it was ready for a test.  A big-boy bed is basically your old crib with one side missing so I although it was different, it was still familiar.  Even so, we watched you on the monitor hang your head over the open side and dangle a leg through the missing panel. At one point, you actually got up and roamed your room - probably just because you could, and then you tired of walking and put yourself back to bed.  It was all very funny to watch.  Twice you called out to us, and your dad and I took turns singing you an extra song.  And after that, it was sleep like normal. In what felt like a very easy transition, you became a big boy in a big-boy bed.  
• We made a trip to Hilton Head Island to visit with Omi and Pop for a long weekend at the beginning of the month (10/3 - 10/5) and stayed in the Carter's 3 bedroom condo off the boardwalk to the ocean.  The facility had multiple pools so we hopped from heated chlorine into freezing salt water and you loved every minute.  However, your favorite part of the weekend might have been going to the toy store with Aunt Harriette - she spoiled you!
• Mid month, I took you to Macon for a long weekend since I had 10/14 off from work.  Omi and I spent most of the weekend making Halloween costumes from “Where the Wild Things Are” with you as Max, and your father and I as the Wild Things.  And they were pretty good, if I do say so myself.  Pop took you to Barnes and Noble and you loved to play in the backyard fountain and feed the birds.
• You wore your Max costume to school and seemed happy, but I heard you ask your teacher as I left the classroom if you could switch costumes.  My poor boy - I’m so sorry.  Seeing you surrounded by race car drivers and superheroes, I vowed never again to make you a literary character.  Next year, your choice.   
• We attempted to go to “Boo in the Zoo” but the lines to park were 40 mins long.  The line to get inside the zoo would take days, so we defined "Boo" as basically getting a snow cone in the park and then immediately getting back in the car!  By the time the actual day of Halloween arrived, you were over it.  No promise of candy or costumes or even a snow cone excited you.  You opted to watch a Disney movie and relax after school.  Fine by us.
• “I’m so happy” you said to me out of the blue one Saturday morning when we were sitting on the couch together, my arms wrapped around you.  Me too.  Me always.
• Jono, Jen & Jack came into town 10/16 - 10/20 for a long weekend.  Jack is getting so big - he walks around the house, and you talk to him even though he can’t yet talk back to you.  From our point of view their visit was just wonderful, but given the fact that both Jono and Jen got an unexpected stomach bug, they may have a different opinion!  And then out of the blue (probably due to all the excitement) you threw up orange juice into the isle of the "Ross Dress for Less" store in Cherrydale.  Jen and I stood in shock for a moment, as you said with a bit of confusion on your face, “I frow up.”    
• When you give your toys a voice, it is always deeper in tone.  And in your toy's voice, you refer to your father and me by our first names.  For example, your jet said, “I’m flying in the sky - watch me, Megan.” Every toy calls us by our first names.  But when you are Patrick, you call me “Mama.”    
• We signed you up for 3 year old soccer last month and had to lie about your age (per the suggestion & approval of the coach) to get you into the class. The program continued into this month and you seemed to have mixed feelings about practice.  At the last game of the season, you refused to play or even change into your jersey. Not wanting you to feel negative about sports in general, your father and I encouraged you (with the help of a can of crunchies) to cheer for your team from the sidelines.  However, as soon as the coach announced that it was time for trophies, you took to the field with vigor and proudly held your trophy above your head for all to see and admire.
• I love in the mornings how you crawl in my lap for a cuddle/snuggle - your head under my chin resting on my chest and your legs pulled up into my lap so I can hold you tight.  And you just rest there.  Can we sit like this forever?
• I had to sign a report at school that stated a little boy hit you in the head with a truck (on accident).  I think the report was so I wouldn't sue.  And even though they don't tell you names - I know who it was.  I’m coming for you, Kid.  Watch out.
• Early one morning as I was straightening up the house before work, I opened the compartment of your motorcycle to find a sippy cup of milk.  The smell was undeniable.  It has been there a long time - long enough to curdle and separate and leak into the compartment.  Your father and I found ourselves on our hands and knees cleaning the floor and trying to breath out of our mouths.  So, this is parenthood. 

September 2013: 36 months (3 years)

Dear Patrick,

• On 9/7, your father and I took you to the Saturday Market on Main Street.  You walked between us, holding both our hands.  At one point you said, quite innocently, “When I was a little boy…” and I laughed so hard at the choice of words that I have no idea what you were going to say next.  I know you are almost three, but you are still (and will always be) my little boy.
• At the Market that same day, we heard a voice yell, “Hey Patrick!”  It was Rivers Whitehead, who noticed you through the large crowd from his stroller.  Fast-forward ten years and Rivers just as easily could have said, “Yo, dude - great to see you...wanna shoot hoops later?”  I honestly had to pinch myself and make sure you weren’t a teenager.
• You moved up to the older class at Overbrook with new teachers this month.  You went to school on Monday 9/9 with “big boy” pull-ups and you were so excited to show everyone your underwear.  A week later, you were in real underwear all day, and its been this way ever since.  
• A “banana line” is what you call a whole banana, as opposed to cut-up into small pieces.  (You use this term for a hot dog too.)  The other day you asked for a banana line and I started to peel the banana in front of you but when I was halfway done, you burst into tears because you wanted the skin back on.  I hugged you tight and told you it was gonna be ok.  May the biggest problem you have in life be a banana line.
• This month we’ve noticed a few more tantrums than normal. Apparently with age, comes more will-power.
• We signed you up for your first organized sport this month: soccer, which meets every Tuesday through October.  Coach Cameron has all the players do real drills - its impressive.  And you are really good!  You did say that when you got tired, the ball made a good seat.
• After watching Cinderella, you told me that we should get married.  A few days later, you put a strand of beads around my neck and said that I “could wear these at our wedding.”  My heart is melting.
• Saturday 9/14 was the FIRST time that you ever climbed out of your crib on your own.  I just don’t think you ever had the desire to ever try till now.  That morning you were just standing in the middle of the room when we opened the door.
• A fireman, who you met outside of Publix with your father on 9/15, gave you a plastic fireman’s hat, and you came running into the house - very proud - to show me.  You told me I could wear your hat, but when I put it on my head, it was a little snug.  So, you assured me that “when I get little,” it will fit.  In this same vein, you told your dad, “you’re not a little boy yet - you’re just a daddy” to explain why he couldn’t go down the slide at the park.  I love that. Benjamin Button style.  
• You “do voices” now when you play.  A mouse will have a high voice or a car may have a deep voice and you can stay in character a long time.  
• Your father and Pop went to Spain this month and Omi came to stay with us in Greenville for five days which was so much fun!  Your father’s Spain trip came right on the heels of a big job change for him, which made for an exciting month.  
• Aunt Jen and cousin Jack came to visit for an hour on Saturday 9/21 before driving home to Bham. I got a few photos of you two together (despite protests), but you & Jack will thank your moms for our efforts when you are older.
• You’ve done really well with potty training - skittles in a clear, plastic tub in the bathroom are key. You did, however, have one “accident” when you decided to pee in the hallway - not five feet from your actual potty, and I thought to myself, “why?”  Its sort of like when your father throws his dirty clothes next to the hamper.  Really..? Just so close.
• On Friday 9/27, your father and I brought cake-pops (great idea from your dad by the way!) to share with your class at school and sing you an early happy birthday!  You felt really special and said as you pointed to yourself, “Its my birthday.”
• You received a singing hamster card from Katie and Sonny that you now carry with you everywhere.  “Dee da dee da dee da dee doooh” has become a bit of your theme song.  
• One Sunday before bedtime, you watched “Curious George” (as you do most nights), but this particular evening you sat on the living room couch squished between your father and me -- all three of us piled together in what was essentially one large group hug.  No one talked; we just sat focused on the thirty minute episode with arms and legs happily tangled.  And I was reminded, in that simple moment, what a lucky family we are to have each other, to really enjoy each other as individuals, and to appreciate one another in ways that I know are special. Your world is a good one, Patrick.  And our lives are so amazing because of you.  Thank you.

 Happy THIRD birthday, my love.