Wanderlust

Letters to the O

Thirty Two Months

I think you became a little boy this month. Between the potty training and the incredible advances you've made physical, verbally and emotionally I feel like I looked down one day and then looked back up and there you were- a real boy!

Potty training really took off for you this month when I got serious enough about it to attach an incentive. A system of compiling stickers and trading them in for a new matchbox car inched you further towards independence from diapers. I discovered that having you run around the house naked was the best method as wearing underwear seemed to only encourage you to pee in them. And so it has not been uncommon the past few days to see you walking by to the living room in a sweatshirt and slippers with your butt on display for all the world.

You've become very aware of the emotional state of others and are constantly asking about Dad and my feelings. Are we happy or are we mad? Maybe we're sad or feeling frustrated? Just last night, I was helping you to carry a container of train toys downstairs to set up on the table so Dad and I could watch the presidential debates. You called out to me as I began to descend the stairs.

"Mama, don't drop that. I will be very mad if you drop that train stuff! It will make me upset."

A sense of humor is something that you've seemed to have developed this month. And your idea of funny is definitely your own. The other night you were telling Dad and I about your day and how you went riding your tricycle down the sidewalk with your babysitter, Jesse. You stopped mid conversation and asked- "Is there a sidewalk in here? No- that's so silly!" And proceeded to break down into guffaws at your own joke.

One of the things you've developed this month that hasn't been nearly as funny is a sense of fear. It started one night with you breaking into hysterics over a noise you reported hearing "in the ceiling." Dad and I spent quite some time calming you down and convincing you it was only the wind or the house creaking, but you persist in having random fears about bugs, dark and monsters. I feel so conflicted about this- trying to decide if I've done something or managed to create a sense of fear or an environment that doesn't feel safe to you or if it's just a natural stage of your development. Either way, you continue to be mostly sunny and surprisingly free from anxiety of any sort.

This month I feel as if I am slowly convincing you that resistance is futile and I mean what I say. We've had a couple of times when you tested me about the consequence of not complying with my request. Justice has been swift and administered with very little mercy. And for the most part, though I still spend a great deal of my time counting, you do what you are asked to do. It may be reluctant, with protests, or accompanied by tears but we're beginning to understand each other. I think it helps that we now speak the same language- and neither of us puts up with much bullshit.

Captain Owen

Owen decided to get his pilot license a little early in life.