boy, it's tough to be 3

Matthew, bless his wee soul, has such a hard life.
Forget the fact that he merely has to ask politely for chocolate milk and it is given to him, miraculously, within minutes - yet he has such a hard life.
Today he managed to put 5 or 6 DVD's together and stick his finger through the hole in the middle, where it promptly got stuck. He came crying to me with a rather purple looking finger and some sticky DVD's that don't have a hope of playing right now. I managed to get his finger out - where he promptly wiggled it in relief and then........ did it AGAIN. Rescue him one more time and give him a spindle to put his DVD's on, instead of his finger. He liked that.



Then he sat down on his Blue Winnie the Pooh chair to watch Dora and cried because the sunlight was streaming in through a window. It just doesn't occur to him to move. He would rather cry about the sun in his eyes. I close the blinds. He walks into another room, where sunlight is also streaming through another window and just about has a hissy fit that the sun had the nerve to get into his eyes again. He thought I'd fixed that annoying little problem. Excuse me, I'll go place a cloud in front of the sun now my sweet boy, it shant bother you now.

His cereal is too hard.

There is a wrinkle in his sock - better take that right off. In fact, all items of clothing appear to be bothersome - he removes them all.

He is running about naked, with a lightbulb. This is because he steals lightbulbs. He is fascinated with light, and steals lightbulbs out of my lamps whenever he gets a chance. We don't use lamps anymore.

We have potlights.

He can't unscrew those.

yet.

He comes to me with a balloon to blow up. He is still just a 3 year old boy, a balloon is fun and provides minutes of entertainment tossing it up in the air.....until he grabs a fork and stabs it. It won't blow up anymore, as it is in 3 pieces.
He cries.

Yep it's tough to be 3.


On the other hand - for all his eccentricities, this boy is absolutely delightful. He finds just about everything funny - to the point of annoyance. He is giggly and funny and sings just about all day long. Everything is a song. He learns songs in nursery school and sings them to me. Late at night, I can hear him humming in bed, rocking his head against the headboard with a resounding thump that sounds like it should hurt, but his humming reassures me that he is quite content to repeatedly bash himself to sleep.
For the first year of his life he did not want to be held. Now he can't seem to get enough holding. He is a cuddler to the 10th degree, and cozying up to me inside a blanket is a source of comfort for him. I love him to pieces. He is incredibly verbal. He spoke in full sentences before he was 2, and I still get a kick out of some of the things he says. He can't say "Th" - it comes out as 's' . As I hand him his chocolate milk, he looks up at me and says a quiet "sanks" - it just gets me every time.
He is still talking about his trip to the Apple Orchard - Not about the apples, or the animals or anything he saw but the fact that he got to ride a big yellow bus to get there. I don't know if he even remembers the apple orchard as he was so taken with the bus, and cried when it dropped us off and left. The relief he had when the bus came to pick us up was evident. It must have been on his mind all day. He talks about the yellow bus constantly. He loves the bus. He loves school. He loves Chocolate milk and being naked in a big blanket, He loves Dora and he loves plugs and fans and radio's. He loves me - I know because he told me. I love him more.