July 2014: 46 months (3 years and 10 months old)

Dear Patrick,

• When asked what your father does for a living, you said this month that he is a “warrior,” which I have to admit does sound a lot like “lawyer.”  And, as you point out, he does fight bad guys.
• You play a great game of “Shopkeeper” in which you sell-off most every item in our home within eyesight. The good news is that your prices are fair - usually no more than “ten monies.”
• In an interesting comparison, you told me that “a yawn is a toot from your mouth.”
• As we played with chalk on the driveway one hot Saturday afternoon, you said to me: “I’ll draw a cross and you draw Jesus dying on there.”  Trying not to react negatively, I drew a sleeping Jesus stick figure -- and then I also quickly drew some butterflies and rainbows and other happy stuff to counterbalance the requested morbid scene of death.  
• You have two firetrucks and you call one “Hank” and the other “Frank.” You race these around the house by putting one hand flat on the top of each toy.  Then, leaning with all your weight against the plastic, you bend at the waist and run.  When you ask us to “talk trucks,” (this firetruck race game) you insist that we contort ourselves in the same manner - otherwise its not “playing right.”  Of course, I never really know if I’m Hank or Frank, so I already know that I’m not playing right on multiple levels.
• You would like to be Spiderman and or Ironman when you grow up.
• Your father and I went to Italy for eight days with Omi, Pop and Bunky for Lisa and Camiel Schijvens wedding, which was amazing and beautiful.  Storybook really.  You stayed with Big Mitchell & Gangie, who installed a playground, sandbox and a pool in their backyard just for you.  Such a lucky boy!
• Your father would not let you change the television channel from his show to yours, and apparently you got mad and informed him that you were “telling mom.” “Go ahead and tell her,” your dad said to you, knowing that although its hard to resist your tear streaked cheeks, I agree 100% with your father. I’ve got his back always. Plus, the cooking show is just so much better than “Turbo” the snail.
• On Friday 7/18 you woke up crying because you had peed yourself awake (which rarely happens) and then two hours later you woke up crying because your legs were asleep and “filled with tingles.”  Rough night.
• I gave you a kiss before you left for school the morning of 7/17 and you said, “thats like our wedding.”

June 2014: 45 months (3 years and 9 months old)

Dear Patrick,

• We made an outdoor waterbed (jello-like) kiddie pool for you using plastic sheeting and duct-tape, and it was a big success.  This is one of those things that I now want to make every weekend - as much for me as for you. 
• This month you have been a bit consumed with the idea of storms. You don’t like thunder or the threat of possible thunder. You’ve asked me a couple of times about the forecast and the percent chance of rain.  And even though the number means nothing to you, we still look it up together on my iphone.  Your father has referred to bad weather as “sky music” and describes thunder as a “big friend” who just happens to have a loud, deep voice calling, “Patrick come play” or maybe, he said, that was just a toot, trying to make you laugh.  
• On Tuesday morning 6/3, while you ate your breakfast, your dad said, "Hi little mouse. Do you like your cheese?" You looked up at him and replied deadpan: "Dad, I'm not a mouse. I'm just Patrick eating cheese."  
• Bubble wrap entertains for a good 30 mins. One pop at a time, and then the realization that you could put it on the floor do an entire “bubble dance” with your feet. Awesome.
• You picked out a Robot card to give your dad for his birthday, and you and I made cupcakes (yellow cake with chocolate icing), which you decorated with colorful sprinkles.
• “We’ll sing two songs: 'Down at the Station' and 'Itsy Bitsy Spider.'  First, Down at the Station.”  You have said these exact words every night at bedtime for a very long time, so this is nothing “new” this month, but appreciating the norm is special in itself.   
• Out of the blue on Wednesday evening 6/11, you announced that you would no longer like to wear pull-ups to bed.  You came up with this plan all on your own and explained to us that you could simply get out of bed at night and take yourself to the potty.  (So simple folks.)  Still a little doubtful - we practiced in the daytime, turning off the light and you showing us how you would do it.  Then that night you did.  And only one minor accident later, that was that - diapers are a total thing of the past.
• Its not worth explaining how the phrase “shit show” was expressed in your presence, only that you repeated it back and with gusto. Your father and I tried very hard not to laugh.
• You took a wonderful trip to the beach with your dad, Sonny & Katie, Susie, Sal, Kevin & Allison, Grace, Sharon, Michael & Tory:
• You yelling “white squall” at the waves (like Uncle Sonny taught you).
• You telling your dad that you were going to use your metal detector to find crabs. Your dad asked, "Are crabs made of metal?"  And apparently you replied, "No Dad - they are made of sand. They are sand crabs."
• You making a 1.5 mile walk to the pier - just you, your father and your uncle Sonny.  “Just a couple of dudes, enjoying each others' company,” Sonny said. And then another morning you got up early with Aunt Katie and the two of you enjoyed a sunrise, for which is depicted in this month’s photo. 
• You getting use to a full house of people at the beach and asking, “Where’s all my parents?!!” to an empty living room one day when it was just your father alone on the couch.
• You “flirting” with the women at the beach; apparently a 'future ladies killer,' according to your uncle Sonny.
• You being perfectly happy in a restaurant that was understaffed and kept the family waiting more than two hours for cold food.
• Then at the end of this month, I realized that there is nothing better than getting off the plane from Mexico (visiting Michael for a long weekend with Omi) and hearing, “Mama!” Oh, your little voice! You ran to me with both arms outstretched; a crowd of people parting to let you through; their awwwws surrounding me as I dropped to my knees only focused on my boy; you tan from the pool earlier that day with your dad, and smelling of sun screen, chlorine, sunshine... You are so beautiful.

May 2014: 44 months (3 years and 8 months old)

Dear Patrick,
This month

• You call the game Angry Birds, “Pig Shots.”
• I’m not sure how you came up with this, but you call one of your toy cars a “Madagascar Car.” So I guess its from Africa...?
• While doing the laundry, a pile of rocks fell out of your shirt into the washer.  You had put a fist full of tiny pebbles from the playground at school into the front square pocket of your red shirt.  Lesson learned: check pockets.
• You have been changing your mind a lot lately (a form of testing, we think.) "Patrick, you can watch Peppa Pig or nothing on television. Those are your options. Oh, really? Nothing you say [with a bit of attitude]?!  Well, OK, then.  You made your choice." And off goes the TV.  Cue you changing your mind and the fit of remorseful tears that follow.  But too bad.  Growing up is tough.   
• I noticed that you have a few tiny freckles on your nose and cheek.
• One day you rubbed my back with your little hand and whispered in my ear, “that means I love you.”
• The Howells (next door) own four chickens - they actually got them last month over Easter, but you have really taken an interest this month.  You walk over to their house, and let yourself in their backyard gate to play.
• You noticed a large woman on the street on a Thursday at “Downtown Alive.” As you were walking hand-in-hand with your father, you pointed at her with your other hand and loudly exclaimed, "you're FAT!" Apparently there was no music playing and really obvious.  Your father promptly had a long talk with you about being polite and keeping some observations to yourself.  
• We’ve explained the words: detour, patience, evergreen and slope this month.  (Are these like the random items of food you buy at the grocery store that in theory explain a lot about you to the cashier?)
• We taught you “en garde” and “touche” so at least we now sword fight in style.
• We had a lot of fun at Artisphere, one of your first real music concerts! You saw Blitzen Trapper play a great show downtown at the outside amphitheater behind the Peace Center. You loved the hula hoops, dancing and running around in the crowd. Your father and I took turns following you, tag-team style.  It was a great night and one of the latest you have ever stayed up, around 10:30pm. A great Saturday in May!
• You told me that “ladies drink wine.”  Interesting observation. 
• For “password,” you say “passage word,” which I love because frankly its better.
• You and I went to Macon for Memorial Day weekend, and your highlights were: worms in the Hope’s garden, surprises (toys) from Omi & Pop on your shelf, croissants, the pool Omi made for you, Mr. Melvin, and Tom’s tractor.
• You went to the dentist for the first time and loved it.  You asked a million questions and particularly liked “Mr. Thirsty,” the pirate glasses Dr. Kenna wore, and the bubble gum flavor toothpaste. The doc couldn’t believe how happy you were in his office - he scraped, polished, flossed and gave you a fluoride rinse.  “This kid should maybe think about dental school,” he told me.
• You asked, "Mom, what does Yoda do?" 

April 2014: 43 months (3 years and 7 months)

Dear Patrick,

• From the backseat of the car on Tuesday 4/1, you said, “Mom you’re beautiful.”  I told you how sweet that was to hear, and I told you that you were beautiful too.  But you explained, “No, I’m not beautiful... I’m not wearing a dress.” So I said, “Well, ok, then you are wonderful.”  There was a long pause from the backseat, like you were thinking my comment over and then you said, “Yep, I am wonderful. I’m not beautiful, but I am wonderful.”  
• The weather was so pretty on 4/2 that when we got home from school, we put a blanket on the ground, brought snacks outside along with a few books and had a picnic in the grass. We opened the Easter package that came early from Omi and Pop.  Ah, welcome springtime.
• You wait until the bunny is awake on your clock and then you come running into our room most mornings.  On Wednesday 4/9, your father asked how you were feeling and you said, “I’m doing well,” which really made me laugh.  It sounded so adult!
• We got a new roof thanks to some clients of our father’s who couldn’t pay the legal fees, but they could work!
• The pollen is horrible for you this month!  On 4/12 your voice had changed into a pitiful little crackle, as if we lived with a tiny smoker.  And we went through almost two boxes of kleenex in one day.
• As we were driving home from school, you said, “When I get bigger, I’ll be soooo big I won’t fit in the car.”
• When I took you to the eye doctor this month, you would have thought it was a trip to Disneyland.  You loved it and everyone loved you. “Excuse me, Miss Wanda, what does this button do?” You are so polite, curious, happy and excited.  The nurses couldn’t get over you - they must see kids all the time come into the office scared or upset, but you high-fived the team like you owned that place!
• You call the kitchen the "kitchen room,” which makes sense.  We do have a living room, bed rooms and bathrooms - why not a kitchen room?!
• We drove to Macon for the Easter weekend and even though it rained for most of the time there, we stayed busy dying eggs and playing with a few new toys: laser guns, the crystal tree, parachute man, clay, and a hurricane bubble machine!  On Easter morning, you had already eaten half a chocolate bunny before we even knew you were awake.
• While in Macon, you learned the word “appetizers” and that apps come before the meal, “Oh,” you said with your epiphany: “like the blessing.”
• One morning before school, I filmed you singing all sorts of songs and you love to watch yourself.  In “Do-Re-Me,” you sing “...a needle and thread,” which is my favorite lyric.  I sent these songs to your Aunts & Uncles and Jen said that Jack in particular loves to watch you over and over.
• Your dad told me this story: on Sunday 4/20, you two went to the grocery store together and apparently you were not listening to your father, so he tapped you on the leg. “Dad, did you hit me?” you asked with shock on your face.  “No,” you father said, “I did not hit you - I just got your attention.”  You thought about that comment for a moment and then made a grabbing motion with you hand in front of your father’s face and said, “You got my attention?  Well, I got it back.”

Love,
Mom

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?