Two years, nine months

Dear K,
You're nearing three. You speak in full sentences, tell us stories, and offer explanations when we don't understand. You probably won't want to hear this when you're older, but you are such a sweet little boy. When I pour your milk without spilling, you exclaim, "Good job,Mommy!" You ask for "more snuggles" when we start to leave your room at night, and no matter how upset you are, you're always ready for a hug. And you carefully pick out toys to share with your friends, thinking out loud about which ones they would like best.
You also give unsolicited compliments. My favorite was when I put on my fuzzy red sweatshirt, and you gasped and said, "You look beautiful!" (I'm pretty sure it was the resemblance to Elmo.)

Since you were a baby, I've asked you to tell me what's wrong instead of whining and crying. And it's sunk in. You are far more likely to tell me "I'm angry!" or "I feel sad," and let me know why than to yell and hit. I love that. Of course, you do yell and hit sometimes, and sometimes we yell too. Nobody's perfect.

You've always hated having your state changed (as Daddy and I, former computer science geeks, like to think of it), but lately it extends to never wanting to change your clothes. It takes a huge amount of effort to get you out of the house in the morning.

For a long time you weren't very interested in sweet stuff -- you'd get excited over a cookie, but after two bites you'd get bored and walk away. But you've discovered candy. Lollipops are your favorite. Unfortunately, they're everywhere. Every time you see one, you beg for one and throw a tantrum if we say no. (You are sweet, but you're still two.) And just last week you had your first M&M in some poorly monitored trail mix. I didn't realize there were M&Ms in there until I heard you say, "I LIKE THAT!" and smelled chocolate on your breath. You requested M&Ms for breakfast every morning for a few days, and somehow managed to identify the bag of M&Ms in the grocery store checkout and begged for that too. As you will discover, Mommy has a major sweet tooth, and I feel like a hypocrite sometimes for denying you. But it's part of my job to make sure that you don't eat candy for every meal.

Despite your burgeoning love for candy, you are such a good sharer that you only ate one lollipop out of your trick-or-treating haul and parceled out the rest to everyone in the house, warning your grandparents: "Don't eat the wrapper. Mommy will unwrap it for you."

Some of your current K-isms:
"K, you're so contrary." "I AMN'T!"
(Crash!) "What did I did??"
You tell a long story or let out a stream of gibberish. Then you ask, "What did I say?" and expect us to repeat it.
You point to characters in your books and expect me to come up with dialogues between them. "He said?" "He said... 'Hey! That's my dinner!'" "And she said?" "She said... uh... 'I will eat it all up!'"
You also point to characters and ask, "How does he feel?" on every page. It can take half an hour to read you a ten-page board book.

The rest of the family thinks it's funny when you say someone is "cross" or "pleased." (The influence of Thomas the Tank Engine.)

When you see something scary, which doesn't happen very often, you yell, "WHAT'S HAPPENING? WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" You were upset when you saw a scary scene from Scooby-Doo on the plane, but you seemed to accept my calm explanation and forget about it. I was surprised when you described the scene in detail about two days later. I didn't think you had understood what you had seen, and I had gone out of my way to tell you that the people were dressed up in costumes and were only pretending to attack. But you either didn't buy it or didn't see fit to include it in your story.

In the "be my echo" category: When I say I can't or won't do something, you say, "Try." If I'm refusing food, you say, "Try it. See if you like it." (And sometimes you add, "If you don't like it, I will eat it.") You have also incorporated several other Mommy-isms into your repertoire: "That makes sense." "That seems like a good idea."

You're getting so big. You even scrambled your own eggs this morning! I feel like I know how to be your mom right now, but we'll be entering new territory once you turn three. I hope I can keep up.

Love,
Mommy