Exactly three years ago today, The Pip arrived, in a manner that will allow him to kill Macbeth should that become necessary. This is the age where kids first become aware of the concept of birthdays, so he’s just a tiny bit excited about this.
He’s a fast-developing Little Dude, chattering more and more every day. And using big words– in the car the other morning, I pointed out that he could fit his whole hand in the pockets of the pants he was wearing, which he proceeded to do. “I want to show Mommy this, when we get home,” he said. “Meanwhile, I can do it by myself!” He’s getting into superheros at the moment, and has several insipid DC early-reader books basically memorized, and corrects me when I deliberately read the words wrong.
Three is, of course, a pretty trying age in a lot of respects, and he’s prone to the occasional meltdown when he feels thwarted (which happens at unpredictable times, for reasons that are sometimes difficult to discern). Deep down, though, he’s really a fundamentally cheerful kid, for which we are profoundly grateful. Also, he and SteelyKid get along wonderfully (most of the time, at least). They regularly crack each other up, and it’s not unusual for the half-hour before bedtime to be full of giggles and shrieks of laughter over stuff that makes absolutely no sense to the adults in the house. Emmy is also amazingly tolerant of this, given that she’s the only one in the house who can hear the upper end of their excitement…
So, happy birthday to The Pip, my favorite Little Dude. Of all the little dudes I know, he’s the one I love the best.
