Halfway to Four

I'm feeling a little Ethan-centric in my writing lately (or, who are we kidding, in my five years of blogging history).  With Ethan, everything is new and first and noteworthy - it's the stuff I feel is blog-worthy.  But do I really need to write a second blog post about someone learning to write, or use the potty, or sleep in a big boy bed?  It seems redundant.  And this is complicated by the fact that we have one child who trumpets every accomplishment as if he were the first and only human to complete it and another who just goes along quietly learning new stuff and waiting for someone to get around to asking him whether he can do it.  A couple months ago, we asked Adam if he thought he could try to get go upstairs and get his jammies on all by himself.  Considering that we'd been dressing him and undressing him for three years, our expectations were not high.  But minutes later, there he was, back downstairs with full jammies on and his dirty clothes stowed away in his hamper.  I don't know how he learned to get himself dressed, but he had, and he was just waiting for someone to ask him to do it.  There is so much to this birth order thing, and the sad fact is that I expect less from my second kid.  Perhaps it's because I still think of him as my baby, and forget that at two or three or three and a half, he should be doing more than I expect him to. Perhaps I'm just more relaxed this time around, and don't worry so much about the milestone calendar.  Whatever it is, it's not quite fair to Adam, especially because he is growing and developing so fast and so beautifully - I should expect just as much from him, and in return should celebrate his achievements with the same enthusiasm.  So with that, a little bit about our newly three and a half year old...

Much of what makes our little monkey who he is hasn't changed a bit.  Adam is still silly and zany, always trying to get a laugh, the prototypical class clown.  When I drop him off at school, his friends all yell "ADAM!" and many run to smother him with hugs.  I think his audience there responds favorably to constant refrains of "poopy" and meowing at the top of his lungs, and although those acts have been boo-ed at home, they appear to remain an unfortunate part of his repertoire.  But the rest of his act is pretty lovable and endearing, especially when he tells a "joke" or says "I'm just kidding!" with a chuckle.  The sparkle in his eyes and his wide toothy grin are so infectious, and he uses his charm to get out of many a pickle.  Ben and I often remark that it's a good thing the boy is so darn cute, because he certainly knows how to work his parents (and his brother) into a tizzy.  In fact, he seems to enjoy it - pushing buttons over and over, waiting to see exactly how many times they need to be pushed before all hell breaks lose.  Last week, in a moment of brotherly unrest, Ethan told Adam that he was no longer invited to his birthday party (yes, the birthday party that will be in 2013).  He later relented and put Adam back on the invite list, but now Adam will constantly do little things to irk Ethan, all the while asking, "Can I still come to your birthday party?...What about now?".  Counting and time outs are not particularly effective with Adam, because he will ALWAYS do things at least twice (and often three times) just to see what will happen.  And if we don't notice that he's done whatever it is a second or third time, he'll point that out when we say "Three, time out" by saying "It's four actually, Mommy."  He's clever, this one - when we were scolding him for using potty words recently, he thought up a quick retort, "I wasn't using a potty word!  I meant 'p', like the letter."  How do you argue with that?  Every naughty bone in Adam's body comes from testing limits and wanting attention.  Ignoring him when he's acting up would clearly be a more effective parenting strategy, but it's too darn hard to ignore a preschooler repeatedly catapulting off the living room furniture.

But this is supposed to be about all that is GOOD about our littlest love.  And there is plenty.  Adam is a lovebug, always ready to curl up on my lap with his horsey and his thumb.  He loves being read to, and is starting to show signs of wanting to read himself, asking how to say certain words and sounding out letters.  He's known all his letters and numbers for awhile, writes his name perfectly, and is practicing his left and right and north/south/east/west.  He can spell Ethan's name, and some of the names of friends at school.  Adam's vocabulary has always been a strength, and he continues to shock me with the words and phrases he comes up with, like when he told Noni and Papi with perfect pronunciation that "Condiments do not make a meal".  But I also love that he still confuses words and letters sometimes, like calling "yolks" "jolks" and telling me tonight about a "zak" when he meant a "yak".  He gets frustrated when we can't understand him, but does a great job helping us figure out what he's talking about.  Tonight, when I had no idea what a "zak" was, he said, "zak, the big buffalo thing that starts with 'z'".  To which I said, "you mean yak, the big buffalo thing that starts with 'y'?".  To which he responded, "no Mommy, yo-yo starts with 'y', silly!".  I love that he still thinks like a three year old.  

Some things have definitely changed for our now three and a half year old.  Previously almost fearless, Adam is the more timid of our boys at the moment.  He gets scared climbing high jungle gyms, or swimming, or around dogs.  He has nightmares, and is more influenced by scary stories or television shows.  And unlike the twos, filled with unfiltered tears and outbursts of emotion, the threes bring a newfound interest in trying to hold those emotions in, so we see the quivering lip and the welling up eyes much more often than the all-out tantrum.  Adam has also physically changed.  He no longer has any parts toddler - he's sprouted up, thinned out, and become all little boy.  With those physical changes come gross motor developments.  I noticed just the other day that he now runs at full speed and with proper form.  I don't know when that happened, but he used to have this cute little run where his upper body stayed still and his little legs trotted, and that's gone.  He's suddenly much more coordinated with balls and bats and has shown increased interest in doing what big boys do.  He loves hearing about what he was like as a baby, and certainly identifies himself as something other than a baby (although he still asks for us to carry him "like a baby" every night to bed).

With three and a half comes some not so fun traits, like whining, attempting (and failing) to negotiate, and a constant struggle for independence.  I remember those monsters well from Ethan's fourth year, and they don't seem to be any different this time around.  But so much of the rest of going through three again is different this time, and that makes it interesting and keeps us on our toes.  Ethan is so predictable and steadfast and consistent while Adam is our wild card, always a surprise.  Sometimes the surprise is pleasant and exciting; sometimes it makes us pull our hair out.  Parenting Adam is a bit like riding a roller coaster.  And while the climb up is scary and uncertain and sometimes downright frustrating, the thrill of the ride down is so worth it.