The Callum Chronicle #28

Filed under: — Aprille @ 2:47 pm

Dear Callum,

Even if I hadn’t been physically present at your birth, I’d be able to guess right away that you’re two.  Terrible is too strong a word, because you have plenty of sweetness in you, but you’re also becoming more and more opinionated.  For some reason, you are often of the opinion that we are not, in fact, running late to go get Tobin from school, and it’s the perfect time to throw a tantrum that makes changing your diaper and getting you strapped into your car seat really difficult.

Your dad and I have tried to explain to you over and over that if you wanted, you could use the potty like your big brothers, and then you wouldn’t need diapers at all.  You are not interested in that line of logic.  You’re interested in the potty, sure.  You like to open and close the lid, and you plunked a whole new roll of toilet paper in there a while back.  You’re interested in watching other people use the potty, which the others in the family tolerate to varying degrees.  We haven’t pushed it too hard yet, but there will be a day in our future when diapers are no longer a Subscribe & Save item in my Amazon cart.

Your napping has been erratic lately, which may be contributing to your fluctuating moods.  You decided somewhat abruptly that you were done nursing, which was okay with me since I was feeling ready to be done too.  You’ve done very well going to bed at night with no nursing, just lying in bed and relaxing, but naps are a different story.  I think the lack of total darkness in the room combined with the fact that you know fun stuff is happening elsewhere in the house make you less cooperative.  You just get up and leave the room.  On days when I really need you to take a nap, because we have a long evening ahead of us and I can only emotionally afford six tantrums and not twelve, we go for a drive.  That usually knocks you out, and so far I’ve been able to get you into bed without waking you up.  I’ve seen some interesting neighborhoods that I don’t usually pass through as well.

You are currently obsessed with the number 5, and you can’t quite tell the difference between the number 5 and the letter S.  If I’m wearing a shirt with writing on it, you immediately want to search it for 5’s (actually S’s, but we don’t quibble over that).  You really like my Nevertheless, She Persisted shirt for all those bendy letters.  We just got home from taking Tobin to get a haircut, and you were in heaven among all the “Buy one, get one 50% off” signs on the products.

You seem to fixate on things sometimes, like an elephant in a video you saw.  For some reason, you really didn’t like it.  Your brothers get a kick out of asking you a series of questions:

M&T:  Do you like the puppy?
C:  Yeeeessss.
M&T:  Do you like the horsey?
C:  Yeeeessss.
M&T:  Do you like the elephant?
C:  Not so good.

You still bring up the elephant pretty frequently.  You are not a fan.  I hope the elephants don’t freak you out if we go to the St. Louis Zoo during our trip there this summer.  Elephants are very interesting creatures, and I’d hate to see you banish them from your life.

You’re going to have so much fun this summer with your brothers home more.  They’re your favorite people in the world, and if you can manage not to annoy them now and then, I know you’ll have a great time together.  The problem is that a lot (though not all) of our summer activities are going to require trips in the car.  You can get your legs into a kicking position in no time with your brothers next to you in the back seat.  Your dad thinks a minivan is the answer.  I’m not so sure—I love the gas mileage and maneuverability of our car, and one of these years you’ll learn that life is easier if you’re not inciting back seat riots.  We’ll probably need a bigger vehicle as you kids’ legs get longer, but I’m not ready yet.

Your current favorites:  “Daddy Finger, Daddy Finger, Where Are You?” and all the thousand variations available on YouTube, Asian foods of many sorts, Sandra Boynton books, wearing hats, playing with water, and playing outside.  You’ve had miserable allergies this month, and we’ve had some success keeping the symptoms under control with a combination of medicine, frequent hair-washing, and keeping you inside.  I know we can’t keep you locked up all summer, but it’s tough when your poor little eyes get so red and itchy.  We may try to get you into an allergist before the next allergy season starts.

You’re frustrating and funny and adorable and very much two.  You still need mommy cuddles when you wake up every morning, and as long as that’s the case, you’re still my baby, right?  I enjoy your ever-widening vocabulary, because it lets me better understand what’s on your mind, but I also like the fact that you still think kisses cure all injuries.  Last night you bonked your head (not too hard), and you said, “Need kiss…on brain.”

I am happy to say that your brain was not accessible for kissing or anything else.  It was right there in your skull-helmet.  Let’s keep it that way.



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