When Skies Are Grape...

My dearest Little Man,

You delight me every day.

Today you wanted to "stay with Mama".  I told you that Mama had to go to work and I said, "So what does that mean for Nathan?"

You sighed, resigned, and said, "I know... Nathan haffa go work at Jessie's" (that's his day care lady).

You sweet, sweet, little boy.

You've made up some of your own words.  For some reason, Divot (our Jack Russell) is a "Poh-la" and you think that's HILARIOUS.  You chase him around the house, yelling, "Stop, Poh-la!" and laughing your head off like a Munchkin on laughing gas.  Only Divot is a Poh-la - no one and nothing else - and Collin also thinks it's hysterically funny.

Sometimes I wonder if you're both cursing in Kreyol and wickedly giggling that we'll never be the wiser.

You also have decided that BobbyJones (our whippet) is a "Poke-lynn" (no idea what either of these mean, but they don't seem to be tied to anything I can find in Kreyol).

If you're having one of those toddler moments where your warp drive goes into meltdown and you're sobbing hysterically, I can usually distract you and get the tears to stop by asking you where your "Poh-la" is.  Your eyes get wide, and you stop and think, and then you say, "Poh-la?  Where Poh-la?" and all is again right in your world.

(And bless Divot's little neurotic heart for putting up with all the chasing and random "Poh-la" yelling.)

Tonight, we were reading "The Polar Express" together.  You love the trains in it.  You're so excited to see the trains in the pictures.  When we get to the point in the book where the little boy is sad because he's lost his gift, you say, "Oh no!  What wrong?  He loss hims bell?" and then you turn to the last page of the book (where there's a picture of the bell) and you happily proclaim, "There it is!"

We never seem to read the pages between the "sad boy" and the "there it is!" and I think it's awesome that you're so concerned about the little boy being sad.

I'm still trying to get you to be excited about Santa.  Tonight when we got to the page in the book where there is a picture of Santa, I asked you who that was and you said, "Santa Clock".

Close enough....

It was a sweet reminder that you're still trying to figure out some of the things we're saying, just like I'm trying to figure out what a "Poh-la" is.

Later tonight, we were singing together and you happily sang, "You make me happ-EE when skies are GRAPE.... Please don't take my sunshine A WAVE."

I couldn't have said it better, Little Man.  Thank you for being my sunshine, my Sweetness, my happy thought, my son.

You do bring me joy... even when the skies are grape.

I love you, son.
Mama