Is life getting easier? I mean, not easier in any sense that I can pinpoint directly, but in a sort of "coming out of the fog" kind of way? Because it feels a little like it. Maybe it's because Joshua's been so blissfully happy lately, except for tonight when he cried for 30 minutes about having to come inside and take a bath, and the boo-boos on his knees, and that Jonah peed in the bath water. Other than that, he's truly been a joy lately. "Yes, ma'am, I will not climb on the counters." "Yes, ma'am, I will stay in bed." "Yes, ma'am, I will turn off the TV." We've been working on the ma'am and sir thing with him, and how nice it is when you speak nicely. He likes the reaction that it gets, how I sigh and smile and gush over how polite and nice he is. And really, he is.
We had a casualty of sorts yesterday. It's something that happens in most families (I tell myself), and was just an accident (Tim tells me), but I ran over Joshua's tricycle. The Radio Flyer one that Santa brought him two Christmases ago, that he hardly ever wanted to ride until he couldn't because it was smooshed. Actually Joshua wasn't so horrified about the incident until he told Tim, and Tim responded rather badly and dramatically, which is when Joshua fell apart. So we ended up at Target today looking at big boy bikes . . . the blue Hot Wheels bike . . . the Diego bike . . . the red one . . . "Mama, does Brady have a red bike?" "I don't know what color Brady's bike is, Joshua." "Oh. I want the red one." And later when he was riding around the driveway, "Hi mama, I'm Brady."
Do you like how I slipped that in? Riding around the driveway. Like it was no big deal? Because really, it's a pretty big deal. It's an actual big kid bike . . . okay, it has training wheels, but still . . . an honest to goodness bike. That Joshua rides all around the driveway. He hasn't gotten the hang of the brakes yet, the whole pedalling backward thing, which is why he doesn't ride on the sidewalk. Our house isn't actually on a hill, but there is a downward slope to the block. Joshua gets up a lot of speed on it, and his little 3 year old mind can't think fast enough to figure out how to slow down and he freaks out a little.
So now I'll tell you oh-so-nonchalantly how he accidentally rode into the street this afternoon. Oh all right, I'll tell you honestly how I clambered out of my chair in the driveway, hauling Jonah under one arm, running in my flip-flops to try and catch him before he could make it into the street - which I did not. It wasn't actually his fault, it was the downhill slope, and I could see him freaking out in his inability to stop himself . . . my crazy running toward him and his getting off his finally stopped bike to run into my arms and be consoled . . . not scolded . . . It was an event. And I didn't scold him, either - a feat that I don't usually master. He was just so horrified, though, to have been in the street. I was afraid he wouldn't ride his bike ever again after that, but we agreed that it would probably be okay as long as he only rode in the driveway. He was relieved at that, since it seems safe and close to home. The thought of riding down the sidewalk and away from home is just so big for him at the moment, even before the street incident. He's such a sensitive boy.
Also, I just wanted to relate one of our latest conversations . . . it went like this:
"Mama, what's hospital?" (He knows full well what a hospital is, we just play the question game a lot lately.)
"Well, a hospital is where the doctors are, and where people go when they're sick . . . or hurt . . . or are going to have a baby."
"I have a baby in my tummy."
(Feigned shock on my part.) "You do?? What is his name?"
(Feigned shock on my part.) "You do?? What is his name?"
"His name is baby Kaitlynn."
"Is he a girl?"
"Yes, he's a girl." I can tell he's making this up as he goes. Oh, you got that too?
"When will she be born?"
"She will be born when . . . when we are in Las Vegas."
"And when will that be?"
"That will be when all the people are there." Of course.
"Like on vacation?" I ask. Joshua nods. "Will you take care of her then?"
"Yes, and then I will be a grownup."
"How will you take care of her?"
"By holding her . . . and by nursing her." Hmmmm.
"How will you do that?"
"With my nursing pads, and my nursing thing, and my other nursing thing that has the milk in it . . . and I will pump the milk (here he puts his arms around his leg and makes a pumping action) into the milk hole."
"What is the milk hole?" I'm treading on dangerous ground here, I know.
"It's the thing that holds the milk."
"And then what will you do with the milk?"
"Make bananas!"
Go figure.
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