This and That

I knew I'd been doing bad at updating, but 3 months?!!! I always say that if there's time to write about what I'm doing, it's because I'm not doing enough to be worth writing about. If there's something worth writing about, then I have no time.
Here's a snapshot of what's happened the last 90-several days.

THE BEAR: Alex loves his stuffed bear that Callie made for him at Build a Bear while Leigh and I were picking him up in Taiwan. He carries that thing everywhere. He buckles it in any empty seat he can find in the van. He holds it while riding his big wheel. He sleeps with it. It sits beside him while we eat. There are only 2 problems with Bear:
1. He is always filthy. If I can convince Alex to let me wash it, Alex cries the whole time until Bear comes out of the washing machine. Then he promptly carries Bear outside and plays with it in the dirt. Alex likes to trick me too. He'll tell me I can wash Bear, but he digs him out of the washing machine before I finish getting it loaded.
2. Because Alex carries bear everywhere, Bear often gets left in odd places. It's a nightly ritual to look all over until we can find him.

MUFFIN MAN: Alex loves to make muffins. And if we aren't really making muffins, he likes to place the paper liners in the muffin trays and then take them out and stack them up. Alternately, he likes to squish them up. Occasionally this activity is accompanied by him humming "Do you know the Muffin Man."

LOST: On Independence Day, Alex gave me a scare that left quite an impression. We had gone to Small Town, USA to watch a parade (more firetrucks than floats and all the politicians and baseball teams throw salt water taffy). The parade goes right past my parents' house, so many family members had gathered on the front lawn. I unloaded our lawn chairs from the back of the van and set them up, and was taking pictures and visiting while waiting for the parade to start. After a few minutes, I looked around and couldn't see Alex. Everyone started searching inside and out. I was almost frantic. What if he had followed some other parade-goer up or down the street? And then I looked over at the van; suddenly I knew he must have climbed into it while I was hauling chairs. Sure enough, he was there, and he was pretty sad. He wasn't in there very long, and it was a cool day for the 4th of July, but it is scary to think what could have happened.

More this and that later. I guess I'd better fix dinner.

"I Three"

Alex celebrated his 3rd birthday on Wednesday. His dad practiced with him so he will say "I three" when someone asks how old he is. He occasionally forgets and says he's 2, but he has 361 days to work on that. Next we have to get him to hold up the right number of fingers.

Callie drew Thomas the Train on the top of his cake, and he was so delighted. I had to store the cake in the cold oven to keep him from pulling Thomas apart before the main event. Even so, he kept opening the oven and asking if his cake was ready. When he eats a piece, he gets more on his shirt than in his mouth, so I'm not sure how much he even likes cake, but he likes the idea of it, and hey! it's his birthday.

Today he has switched to marshmallow peeps and chocolate bunnies. He and Laura and Amy spent a few minutes this morning finding all the candy hidden in plastic eggs around the house. Now we have had to re-hide the candy in a place he can't reach. The best part is that he likes to try everything--just a little lick, then set it out on the floor so we can all step on the sticky remnants.

And today we feel blessed to celebrate the true reason for Easter and the resurrection of our Savior Jesus Christ. There is a special significance in Easter this year for us, because a week ago one of Laura's friends passed away after a 13-month battle with leukemia. We are so sorrowful that Jessenia is no longer with us, but we know that her spirit still lives and that because of our Savior's sacrifice, she will live again too, in a body that is well and whole and free of pain. And this hope and knowledge eases the burden of our loss.

Mr. Independent

What two or three year old doesn't live with the attitude: "I do it myself!" This, of course, refers only to the things you wish they would let you do. They still want you to do all the things you think they ought to do themselves.

Alex has definitely entered the "independent stage." He's so good at it that I'm thinking he's about ready to move out on his own--not bad for a child who won't be three for another two months! A year ago we bought him a crib tent, because he was forever climbing out of his crib, and since he was also able to open doors-including locked ones with dead bolts-we needed a way to make sure he'd still be in his bed in the morning. Well, he quickly grew to love that crib tent. Now he even climbs in his crib and zips the thing up himself by reaching his hand around (Of course, that also means he can unzip it himself, but the worst thing that's happened is that he comes into our room at 2:00 AM demanding hot chocolate).

I don't know why he demands hot chocolate from me at 2:00 AM. Usually, he wants to make it himself. He'll get a cup out of the dishwasher (doesn't much care if it's clean or dirty) and fill it with water. When the microwave goes off, he announces, "It's ready," and wants to empty the packet into the cup and stir it up himself.

A few weeks ago I walked into the kitchen to find him standing on a stool taking hot chicken nuggets out of the microwave. He had gotten the nuggets out of the freezer, climbed up and found 2 plates, evenly divided the 10 nuggets between the plates, thrown away the empty package, and pushed the right button on the microwave to cook the first plate of nuggets. He informed me that he was making the other plate for his 6-year-old sister Amy.

When finished eating, he races over to the garbage, scrapes his own plate, and puts it in the dishwasher. He says, "I put in washing machine myself." Don't ask me how many times I've washed paper plates that I didn't know he'd put in there.

He also likes to think he goes potty by himself. What actually happens is that he disappears into the bathroom and sits on the toilet with his diaper on. After 1/2 second, he jumps off, throws in a few squares of tissue, and flushes.

When I tell him I'm going to brush his teeth, he announces, "I done." Sure enough, when I go to the bathroom to check, he has squirted toothpaste all over the counter, and his toothbrush is wet. I've watched him brush by himself before, and I see why the toothpaste package says to supervise children under 6 to minimize swallowing.

He gets himself dressed too, complete with shoes on the wrong feet. He still likes to find his sisters' dresses (after all, I tell him it's time to get "dressed").

I never cease to be amazed at what an incredible little boy he is. But for all his independence, I guess he won't want to be rid of his parents too soon. Who else would answer his demands for a "chest rubbin?'"