My sweet Tobin,
What’s new with you, little guy? You’re officially two and a half now. You love broccoli. You have only very minimal interest in peeing on the potty. You are crazy about reading books and can “read” many of your favorites aloud. You would spend all day at kindergarten with your brother if it were allowed.
I did send in an application for you to go to Willowwind for preschool. The application is technically for next fall, but you’ll turn 3 (the minimum entrance age) on August 21. That’s cutting it pretty close, so I think we’re more likely to defer your start date until January. You’re more likely to be potty trained when you’re about 3.5, and besides, I kind of want to keep you with me a while longer.
This has been a tough winter, and there’s no end in sight. It’s so disheartening to look at the extended forecast and not see any highs over 17F. We’ve only been able to really play outside once lately, on an unusually balmy and snowy afternoon. It was perfect snowman snow, wet and heavy, and we got a pretty good anthropomorphic snow figure built before you took off for the park. You couldn’t go very fast, since the snow was about up to your thighs, so it wasn’t too hard to catch you.
Of course, you got tired and wanted me to carry you. It’s pretty hard to trudge through high, heavy snow with a toddler in one’s arms. That was a good workout for me. Once we got to the park, you and your brother had so much fun. You went down the slides, swung on the swings, made snow angels, and threw snowballs. Then we came home and had hot chocolate with marshmallows. That’s what winter is supposed to be, not this Polar Vortex nonsense.
It’s a good thing we have our vacation to the Florida Keys coming up. You’ve seen videos of yourself playing in the ocean, but it’s been long enough and you’re little enough that I hope you get another healthy dose of ocean glee. If nothing else, it will be great to feel some warm sunshine on our skin and wear only one layer. I’m a little nervous for the 4+ hour flight, since you can get awfully squirmy. We got you your own seat this time, so maybe that will be more comfortable for everyone. I’m planning on bringing lots of snacks and loading up the iPhone with stuff you’ll like.
You’ve been really sweet and affectionate lately. The other day you were sitting on my lap, and you turned around and wrapped your arms around me and said, “I love you soooo much.” You’re generous with hugs and kisses, and you’re quick to comfort anyone who needs a little love. Your tantrums seem to be diminishing a bit. Could we possibly be sliding out of the period of disequilibrium that has haunted you (us) for the last half year?
Like every other kid in the nation, pretty much, you’re wild about Disney’s Frozen. You can sing along with “Let it Go” almost as well as your brother. You want to watch clips from the movie all the time, which isn’t so bad, but right now you’re obsessed with this fan video of a girl belting out “Let it Go.” She’s making a good effort, but she really can’t hit the high notes, and could we please find a different video to watch over and over? Jake and the Neverland Pirates and Word Girl are better. You like those too.
Given our house-bound situation this winter, you and your dad have invented several active games to help you burn off some of your energy. You play “race,” which is as simple as it sounds: you say, “On your mark, get set, GO” and race down the hallway. Your problem is that you always want to be looking over your shoulder to see if your dad is going to catch up, and one of these times I know you’re going to run into a wall. Please, spring, please. We need some serious park time.
You also like to play a modified version of tee-ball with a bath poof and your Jake and the Neverland Pirates foam sword. Nobody’s lost an eye yet.
We’ll celebrate your next month birthday on the beach, little guy. You can run and splash and be semi-nude all day if you want. That sounds pretty great to me, too. I’ll bring the sunscreen and you bring the smiles, okay? We’ll be sure to take a lot of pictures.
Photo by Denny
I love you, Chub-chub.