Happy Birthday Letter to my Three Year-Old

Dear Little Lewie,

Today you turn three years-old, and it's hard for me to believe where the years have gone.  I still remember delivering you in the hospital, and seeing your big beautiful eyes look into mine for the very first time.  "Hi Little Lewie," I said with tears in my eyes, "I'm your mama.  It's so nice to meet you!"

I was a neurotic first-time mom...so worried about giving you love and attention around the clock and instilling good eating habits for later on in life.  We sang songs, danced around the house, read books, played peek-a-boo.  Those were the days that you relied on me for everything...

Now you're three years-old and have become quite the independent little boy.  You look in the refrigerator to grab your own food when you're hungry (even if mom doesn't approve of your first choice), you insist on climbing the stairs all by yourself, and enjoy playing make believe on your own with your cars, trains, and toy phones. 

It seems that each year you become cuter and cuter.  I love the things you say and do, and everyday you provide me with hours of entertainment.  Just for you my Little Lewie, I'd like to write again about the top ten things I love about you and your age--two going on three.

1.  I love when you tell me that you love me.

This was the first year that those three little words came out of your mouth.  (Actually, four words.)  "I love you, Mommy," you respond to me after I tell you how much I love you.  Or, sometimes you say, "I love you too!"  You always say it with the most perfect smile on your face, and I can always count on getting a hug afterwards.  (I love those hugs!)

2.  I love how sweet and thoughtful you are.

There's no question that the two's are a difficult stage both for toddlers and parents.  There were times that you'd throw yourself on the floor kicking and screaming when you didn't get your way.  Other times you'd hit, run away from me, or screech at the top of your lungs.  I'd pray that these temper tantrums wouldn't last long (especially when they were in public), and I'd pray that I was doing everything right to make these teachable moments instead of losing my own temper.  "Don't hit," I'd tell you again and again and put you in time-out until you apologized.  I know that these days aren't over yet.  There will be more days ahead.  However, just a week ago, you taught me that all my "parenting" is working.  I told you that you had to take a bath.  Since you didn't feel like it, you began to go down the stairs instead of in the bathroom.  "Lewie, don't you want to be clean?" I asked.

          "No, I'm fine!" you yelled, wrapping your arms around yourself in a scolding manner.
          "Lewie, we can't have you dirty.  You have to be clean," I said again patiently.
          "No, I'm fine!" you told me again before stepping off the stairs into the living room.
I took a breath.  I knew I was going to have to put you into time-out for not listening to me.  I finished letting the bathtub water run when all of a sudden, you started walking up the stairs on your own.  Before greeting me again at the top of the staircase, you said, "I'm sorry, Mommy.  I take bath!" 

I was astonished!  My little boy thought about his actions and realized he was wrong for giving me a hard time.  My heart melted.

3.  I love your passion for things.
Little Lewie, when you love something...you really love it.  You have two passions in life at this very moment.  You love pretending to answer the phone and have conversations with all of your aunts, friends, and family members.  You also enjoy playing "elevator" by using the sliding doors to our bookcase or the gliding closet doors in our master bedroom.  "Ding, ding" you say as the pretend elevator doors open and close.  You then make a humming sound to imitate the elevator going up or down to each floor. 

You specifically ask to go to the mall so you can ride on the elevator again and again.  (You often refer to the elevator as P2 because when Mommy picked you up from the college daycare, we would have to ride the elevator to Parking Lot Level 2--the button, of course, to push was P2.)

4.  I love your sound effects.
Both Daddy and Mommy love to make sound effects when we describe things, and now you love to do the same thing.  Some of your favorite sound effects and words are "choo choo" for choo choo train, "coo coo" for a coo coo clock, and "tick tock" for a clock.  However, you also have a lot of made-up sound effects--all sorts of hums, groans, and dings when you play with someone or all by yourself.

5.  I love your little singing voice.
You love singing "row, row, row, your boat," "the alphabet song." "happy birthday," "old McDonald" and "eight little monkeys jumping on a bed."  In fact, on some mornings, you lay in your crib and just start singing. Sometimes you'll let me join in, and sometimes you stop me, and say, "No, I do Mommy.  I do."

6.  I love your "knock knock" jokes.
As your vocabulary started to improve, I couldn't believe that you decided you would already begin your stand-up comedian career by telling knock knock jokes. Your favorite is...


          You: "Knock, knock" (Sounds like gonk, gonk)
          Me:  "Who's there?"
          You: "Boo"
          Me:  "Boo Who?"
          You: "Don't cry it's only a joke."

You're proud of your first little joke and love to tell it to new people that you meet. In fact, you can be quite the clown when you want to be...always making faces, sound effects, or silly noises to make people laugh... You love to make fart noises and belching sounds; you probably learned them from Daddy one day and decided they were way too funny to pass up. You also love to pretend like you're sleeping only to surprise me by jumping up.

7.  I love your fascination with counting.
You love to count, especially backwards.  You say, "Five, four, three, two, one...blastoff!"  You can count to thirty with no problem, and we often practice saying our numbers as we pass by mailboxes on our walks.  It's become a game for you, and as we pass by each mailbox, you'll try to give me the number or numbers that you see listed on the side.

8.  I love that you refer to yourself in the third person.
For a short time, you referred to yourself as "Lew Lew."  I think this came from your first daycare at the college.  However, after a few months, you insisted that you were not "Lew Lew".  "I'm Lewie!" You'd say proudly.  After that, everything became about Lewie...  Here are some of my favorite quotes:
          "Don't cry Mommy.  Little Lewie's here."
          "My blanket.  Lewie's blanket."
          "Hey kids," (to your friends at playgroup), "Lewie's here!"

9.  I love that you give me an itinerary of things to do when you first wake-up. 
You have become quite the night owl--sometimes not going to bed until 10:30 p.m. at night.  As a result, you do like to sleep in the mornings (waking up anywhere between 7 a.m. to 9 a.m.).  However, when you wake up, you're full of energy, and you're already rattling off a list of things you want to do.  (It's almost like you've been making this list while you were sleeping.)
     
"Go Mall, go P2, go pool, go swings.  Go see Ryan.  Go see Maya.  Go see Ma.  Go see Ninny.  Ice cream Mommy.  Ice cream."

I'd like to say that this list of demands is only given to me in the morning, but instead, they start in the morning and continue all day long.  What can I say, except I love your persistence and enthusiasm for life.  Okay, the persistence gets draining at times, especially when I have to explain to you forty times that we can't go on the swings today because it's raining, but I do love your passion!

10.  I love that you have a photographic memory for driving and directions.
I'm amazed at your interest in "playing car", and especially amazed that when we drive anywhere you have a keen sense of where we are...  If we head in one direction, you proudly announce that we need to go "that way" to Ninny's house, "that way" to the swings, or "that way" to Maya's house.  If we drive in another direction, you already tell me you want to go "that way" to the mall or "that way" to the other park we visit.  If I had to guess, I'd say you know how to "drive" to at least 15 different locations.  If I had a lapse in memory, I'd be able to rely on you to tell me "what way" I need to drive home.

Bonus:  I love that you hold my hand.
For a long time I made you travel in a stroller to avoid any meltdowns and temper tantrums.  You'd ride in a stroller at the mall, in the store, in church, or even on our way to your daycare at the college.  Your independent spirit this year, however, has tested the stroller, and now you know that if you request "my hand" you can go without the stroller.  You politely tell me, "Hand Mommy.  Hold Hand."  How can I resist?  When we go places, you are good about holding my hand, and again, my heart melts to have your little hand in mine.  Sure sometimes you want to "drag" me to places because of your excitement, but nonetheless, you hold my hand.  It's amazing how something so simple can be so meaningful!

Happy Birthday to my Fun Little Boy!