I'm taking a break from miserable pregnancy posts to focus on our current life with a toddler.
Aaron turns 3 in a few weeks.
He's SO BIG.
We measured him at 38 lbs and 39"
but we'll have the official doctor measurements in a few weeks.
Either way, we know our kid is BIG.
Not fat, just big and SOLID!
Muscle mass solid.
Some of my friend's toddlers are tall, but thin, and therefore pretty light.
Aaron is deceptively heavy.
He's not fat but he's just solid.
People go to pick him up and are like:
"WHOA, he's heavier than he looks."
Aaron helps himself to food in the fridge.
He will randomly walk in the room with an apple (allowed)
or a cup of milk (not allowed unless its mealtime)
or he'll take a bite of his leftovers and put it back (?!?!).
I thought this wasn't supposed to start until they were teenagers?!?!?!
We went to the Starbucks drive-through.
We rarely get Starbucks but I was hankering for a chai latte.
As Adam is placing my order, we hear from the back seat:
"I want French fries... and milk... and chicken nuggets!"
We immediately burst out laughing
to which he responds:
"Don't laugh at me, Mommy and Daddy!"
Aaron was lying on the couch one day
and he requests:
"Mommy, put blanket on me.
Now you go to your space.
This is my space."
I wonder if that argument works when I'm in the bathroom?
Compared to most kids his age,
Aaron gets very little screen time (and zero iPad time).
Mostly when Adam is around
because with me I'm all about the:
The shows he does watch are:
Golf tournaments (no football until fall! boohoo!).
Holmes Makes It Right.
Apparently Holmes Makes It Right has been quite inspirational.
Aaron spends so much time fixing things around the house with his Green Toys tool box (favorite toy award!).
"I'll get my workers to do this."
"There's water in the walls here!"
"We need to take this off and replace it."
Screwing in a new hook on the bathroom door.
Of course, along with all this cuteness is a HEFTY dose of temper.
Maybe it's this stage of pregnancy, but I have ZERO patience for his tantrums.
I haul him off to his room (like, physically pick him up and carry him there),
where he will scream and hit the door for a solid 15 minutes.
Sometimes he cries at the end, sometimes he reappears all happy.
No matter what, he has to say he's sorry and then he gets a long hug,
lots of kisses, and I always tell him how much I love him.
Amazing how he can be the most amazing wonderful part of the day,
and also the very worst part of the day.