Whether it be...

Whether it is because my little rascal is throwing a fit so dramatic it could be worthy of an Oscar; whether it is him flashing his million dollar smile as he splashes in his bath; whether it is the impish grin he throws in my direction as he dashes off for a game of catch-me; whether it be his lowered eyes avoiding my firm reproach as he continues to purposefully and precariously perch himself on the back of the couch; whether it is his predictable cranky mood after his daily nap; whether it is the acrobatic routine before bed that makes me think he was a circus performer in a previous life; whether it is the way he runs to me saying MOMMY in his lilting voice EVERYTIME I pick him up from Montessori; whether it is the fact that he goes full tilt 94% of the day while the other 6% he lollygags when I actually need to him to MOVE; whether it be the way his face lights up when I sing; whether it is that it brings tears to my eyes each time he really hurts himself; whether it is that I feel like a mother bear protecting her young when he gets pushed at the playground; whether it is the fatigue that makes me nauseous at times because he won't sleep through the night; whether it be that I get warm and fuzzy observing Cole hugging Tucker with his arms around his big soft head and Tucker responding with the gentlest nudge of his nose; whether it is the fascination that I feel watching Cole explore himself and his place in this world; whether it is the pure joy that oozes from my pores as I listen to him giggle or whether it is the sound of his breathe and the vulnerability he exudes as he sleeps

Whether it be all of these reasons and an infinite many more, I should always remember and respect that becoming a mother is a privilege like no other.

In like a LION...

It has been as wild and unpredictable around the Denham household as it is in the mighty jungle. So the saying that the month of March comes in like a lion would be very apropos.

Cole has always been strong willed, independently minded and curious. He has tooted to his own proverbial horn since he came into this world BUT he has taken his personality to a whole other stratosphere these past weeks. We had some hints the past month or so that we were not to escape the TERRIBLE TWOS, however one always has hope. That stated, just about EVERYTHING more often than not has become a struggle:

Eating (he won't), I'm lucky if the child eats 1/8 of everything I put on his plate!

Going to bed (it is like he is in the circus with the acrobatic routine he performs once lights are out)

Staying asleep (he still wakes at least once during the night, if not twice so no wonder I have the continued sleep deprived look I had when he was a newborn)

Getting dressed (he has to be pinned down some times so that I can wrestle with him to get his clothes on; same goes for diaper changes)

Getting out the door ( he runs around the house until I finally grab him and once again wrestle with him to get his jacket on though I must give him kudos for putting on his own hat and gloves)

Getting into the car (he races around the backyard or the garage pad because I am normally weighed down like a pack mule and can't carry his 30lbs and everything else, so I put everything in the Volvo and have to play chase in cold weather on icy concrete)

Behavior, he has begun PUSHING which is a NO-NO and hence his first time out at school happened last week; he started pushing Tucker and pushing Dave and I away; we obviously are being consistent with our discipline on this; typically it happens at the end of the day (understandable sure, I feel many times like PUSHING since I have had very limited personal space for approximately 810 days but that is why I work out and drink wine).

He also has started with the colossal emotionally charged meltdowns (over his books falling from his hands, Tucker lapping up something he drops, his trains toppling over, sharing ANYTHING with ANYBODY and on and on...) He even has gotten upset several times when I put my now shoulder length hair into a ponytail (MOMMY OFF with such vehemence in his voice as he tugs at my hairband as if I have done him such an offense).

If I can distract him within 1.4 seconds, I can diffuse or soften the tantrum but sometimes I just have to let him have his breakdown, check in with him, letting him know I'm there with a hug. The hardest challenge for me is twofold, I hate to see him so visibly upset with body shuddering and face blotchy and secondly, I become exasperated many times as some fits are over something specific that he can't communicate to me though he tries his darnedest repeating unintelligible toddler speak over and over in sheer frustration. I as his mom should just be able to figure his needs out (Yes, I am supposed to be a mindreader!!)

So onward march (or March) as we forge ahead with hopes that the Denhams can come OUT like a lamb by month's end!

Why is it...

Why is it that Cole moves with the speed and agility of an Olympic track star 98.5% of his waking hours, keeping me playing chase and catch me every time I need him to hold still BUT when I need him to move along and keep the pace to keep our blood from freezing while we are out walking Tucker, he pokes along at a snail's pace, wandering and strolling down the icy trail as if it was a balmy 80 degrees out??

I am happy he loves his daily walks as much as Tuck but I have Cole 25 yards behind me and Tucker 50 yards ahead of me and I'm running in place cursing this continuous winter under my breathe while I manage them both trying not to lose my patience. I have to keep Tucker in my line of vision but avoid hurrying Cole along since he has taken to sitting down in the snow in protest when I push him to move when he isn't ready, further delaying our lap around the park.

So sometimes, depending on how long a day I have had, I end up carrying a writhing 30lb unhappy little boy the remainder of the walk, as the pooch bounds ahead joyfully though glances back in our direction sensing my growing anxiety.

I shuffle along praying I keep my balance as I wrestle with Cole who wants to be under his own power. Good thing only a rare few are witnesses, as I'm one of only a handful of idiots out dutifully walking their canine in this weather and the only one insane enough to bring her toddler along!

I am toasty warm thanks to clutching Cole for the past 15 minutes by the time we return but irrationally irritated as I now have to navigate the two kids as we re-enter the house. I make everyone STOP, I get Cole's wet slippery boots off so he doesn't fall on his face as he now revs his engine and is back in the race again across the tile floor. I beg Tucker to sit until I can dry off his soaking 85lbs in a vain attempt to lessen further collection of muddy paw prints across the floor I just cleaned for the 4th time that day, 2 hours before. I have to get my 18 layers of clothes off, chase Cole to remove his snow pants, Tucker is drooling for his treat and now dinner needs to be started. *SIGH* But I guess if this is one of my biggest frustrations of the day, I should be so lucky!

Potty training....Phase 1

I'll keep this entry relatively succinct since there is not too much to share at this point but I did want to expound a wee (pun intended) bit since potty training really is a big confluence of events especially to a 2.3 year old.

I've read the books, listened to my mom peer's advice and ended up just like 85% of everything else with Cole ultimately have just gone with my gut on this whole potty thing.

Without going into great detail, Cole on his own volition has most recently begun associating a wet or poopy diaper with going to the toilet, he stops cold from whatever motion he was in and looks at me funny and then grabs his bum and mumbles. At this point, I prompt him "do you need to go to the potty"? I would say 30% of the time he says YES and off we go to remove his pants and diaper. I make a big deal about sitting on his little tushie seat and do my best to throw any remains into the toilet so we can make a big deal about flushing it away. He seems to thoroughly enjoy this event even saying BYE BYE to his turds.

The other 70% is business as usual and only when my nose catches the scent are we off for a change. I bought him CARS pull-ups but they honestly don't seem to be triggering any additional visits to the potty. However he does get very excited during diaper changes now and he actually will hold still while I put them on so Hallelujah for that.

I will have to say that the most unexpected thing about this whole learning to go potty ordeal which NONE of my research or reading alluded to has been how difficult after 26 months of changing and cleaning up a messy diaper while my lil guy squirms on his back is it to NOW wipe the mess while he fidgets standing up (which I do 30% of the time when we actually do the whole use the toilet thing). I'm killing trees left and right with the excess I seem to need to get him poop free with my novice skill at wiping him while he is vertical.

Stay tuned for further updates and hope they don't include entries about a clogged loo.

Another kind of "25 Things...." List

I joined the ranks of the addicted last fall by signing up for Facebook. For the longest time I thought the site was for those quite a bit younger than me but after hearing about so many who were re-connecting with so many individuals from their past, I decided to give it a whirl. I had become more nostalgic in the past few years and was genuinely curious as to what friends from various chapters of my life were doing with their lives.

It took me the better part of a month once I began to figure out the bells and whistles of the various tabs and functions of FB and to actually catch up with everyone who I was finding and those who were finding me in cyberspace. I felt exhilarated at coming across names and faces that were familiar despite the 15-20 years since I last saw or spoken to them.

The whole initial process reminded me of when I reluctantly registered my profile on MATCH.com back in 2001. All my single girlfriends were swearing they were "meeting" cool guys. They all had dates lined up and though none were finding their princes, they were all having a blast. I remember vividly painstakingly drafting my "about me" section and agonizing over what picture to post. I was shocked at the number of emails I got and I spent a ridiculous amount of my free time sorting through them. I had to create a system and make quick gut decisions about the guys. Facebook is obviously different in that I know everyone that is a "friend" and thus they aren't complete strangers however many are viewing my WALL and INFO for the first time in a long time. So updating them with my life's resume is what makes it feel comparable to when I was managing my MATCH profile.

Those who have been active in my life since college know that I ultimately of all my girlfriends who used MATCH, was the only one (and the least expected one) to meet her ROMEO! Dave and I shared emails through MATCH for a week before making plans and meeting for what was essentially a blind date. The rest is history and the butt of many a roast at our wedding festivities.

Anyway, I digress.

If you have been on Facebook recently, no doubt you have been tagged to write the “25 random things about me" list. I realize that some people do not like memes, or they are too busy to write the lists, but I enjoy the occasional one ever so often and I have had fun reading fun and frank tidbits about my FB friends.

Now, there’s a mama-fied version of the FB meme on the BabyCenter community, called "25 random things about being a mom". Here is what I came up with as I continue my maze of first time motherhood!

1. I had no idea that there were a depth & intensity of emotions I had yet to discover before becoming a mom.

2. I had no idea that I would be saying things like "please don't lick the rock" or " please don't put your cars in the toaster" or "please don't eat the dogfood".

3. I had no idea being a very Type A personality that I would be able to embrace dirty hands, spills, poop, throw up and general disarray of my home as I have, however I still cringe at crushed cracker particles, hand prints, snotty noses, muddy footprints on the back of the Volvo's seats and a sticky or dirty floor.

4. I cannot go to bed without every toy put away (Cole helps some and the rest I do after he is in bed); every piece of puzzle put back; every book binding facing up or out (so that he doesn't rip the pages pulling them out otherwise) and every part of anything with parts found and returned to its rightful position.

5. I had no idea that breastfeeding Cole would be the undescribable bond that it was and the only time he would be still for the first four months of his colicky life, really his entire life as he continues to be in motion 90% of time. (Nor did I anticipate breastfeeding for 15 months!)

6. I had no idea that Cole's wonder, awe, excitement, joy and freedom as he experiences life were contagious.

7. I had no idea that Cole would be teaching me more about myself than I would be teaching him about his world.

8. I had no idea that I could function on so little sleep for the better part of two years. Seriously, coming from someone who was miserable pre-child without 8 hours of uninterrupted ZZZs.

9. I had no idea that I would become a pack mule every time we left the house even for the shortest errand. '

10. I had no idea that a 30lb little boy could have enough energy that he could probably light up Times Square.

11. I had no idea how frustrating it could be to make or take a phone call. Everytime I get on the phone, despite having just played for hours, Cole decides to let me know he isn't happy about someone else having my attention.

12. I had no idea that watching my child sleep could be the balm to an absolutely terrible day.

13. I had no idea that I would have to repeat so many things so many times

14. I had no idea that at 18 months, Cole could outwit me already flashing his million dollar smile as he did so.

15. I had no idea that watching my son being wheeled into surgery would cause me to sob uncontrollably and almost vomit in fear.

16. I had no idea that I would have to hold myself back from intervening to let Cole experience falls, disappointments, frustration and playground dynamics.

17. I had no idea how proud I would be of each and every accomplishment and how sincerely surprised I could be when he seemingly mastered something overnight.

18. I wish I could put Cole's sweet, earthy, with a kiss of sunshine smell into a bottle to treasure forever. My brain will remember and savor that scent always.

19. I had no idea how delightful it could feel to have Cole see me after being apart and run full tilt into my arms saying in his lilting voice MOOOOMMMMYYYY!

20. I had no idea how purely entertained I could be by Cole's antics (most of the time).

21. I had no idea how irritating (like nails on a chalkboard or the mess packing peanuts make) WHINING could be.

22. I had no idea that I would cherish the privilege of being a stay-at-home mom. I honestly thought I would be a mom who went back to work. Until I was a mom I wasn't a mom and thus, the decision became quite clear for me on December 6, 2006.

23. I had no idea that my sense of hearing would intensify so greatly that I could wake from a dead sleep if a pin dropped.

24. I had no idea of the immediate adrenaline rush that can occur when you feel your child's pain.

25. I had no idea (despite every parent I know telling me so) how quickly time would pass and how fast Cole would change and grow.

A lesson in sharing by Tucker...

Learning to share has been one of the more challenging feats to teach Cole. It is a constant ongoing dialogue in this house as he plays with us and his friends. I am constantly reminding him that we share snacks, balls, crayons, but most importantly his trucks.

Cole's trucks are his beloved possessions and thus handovers to others are a very rare event. He could be carrying around a handful or playing in a separate room and if a playmate even eyes one laying on the floor, the shriek of "don't even think about it buster" goes out. Many vain attempts have been made, once a peer actually picks up one of Cole's fleet, to calm him down out of his obvious (to everyone) discomfort. He becomes so agitated and his distress so palpable it is beyond the typical parental reaction "Cole we need to be able to share our toys". Cole hoards his trucks at home, at the rec center and at playdates. I do my best to keep him to two trucks (one for each hand) but many times he manages to balance as many as humanely possible which actually keeps him from being able to play with them at all but try explaining that to a two year old.

So we struggle each time we have this "situation". I consistently ask to see and hold his trucks when I play with him one-on-one to let him know that I too can enjoy them and will ultimately return them to him so that he may use them once again. Sometimes he hesitates but hands them over like they are fine china watching me carefully until I hand them back and he snatches them and runs away as if he is afraid I will ask for them back again; sometimes he readily brings them to me and deposits a whole caravan on my desk and says "mommy push" so that I will push them back and forth with him; other times he states vehemently "no mommy" when I ask to play with them and darts me a glance that says "don't ask again".

So the other day while we were couped up once again on a bitter cold day, I had both kids (Tucker and Cole) down in the basement playroom. Tucker was antsy and wanted to play fetch with his stuffed woodchuck (not the real thing of course). Cole likes to grab poor Tucker's toys and run away with them so Tucker will chase him. He giggles with glee as Tucker gently (oh so gentle he is with Cole) tugs for his toy. Cole tugs back but is unwilling to release. Tucker looks my way with a "please mom, make him drop it" plea in his eyes. Normally, I make Cole drop the toy so Tucker can romp away making himself happy squeaking the toy, while Cole pouts and whines that I let Tucker have his toy. So I decided to make this a teaching lesson about sharing. As Cole got over his fit and ran after Tucker to wrestle the toy away I said firmly "Cole, Tucker is willing to share his toys with you, can you share with Tucker"? Cole looked at me quizzically but released his grip on the toy allowing Tucker to trot back to me. I played tug with Tucker for a few seconds while Cole watched us both. I then said, "Okay, Tucker is ready to share again". Cole came running over with a smile and Tucker dropped the toy at his feet. Cole ran away as Tucker chased him but this time when Tucker tugged, Cole let go and laughed. Instead of immediately fussing, Cole ran over to us and Tucker once again liberated the woodchuck. This went back and forth for a few more intervals with both parties playing and sharing together!

Since that day, they continue to play well and in a similar fashion. Cole sometimes needs a prompt but he routinely will let Tucker retrieve his toy without a fight. I don't think Cole is ready for the same level of sharing with his peers quite yet. But I thought it was great that using Tucker as a catalyst for understanding how fun sharing can be allowed Cole to better understand that two-way street. I give kudos to my cherished canine for letting me use him to tackle the issue from a new perspective.

Don't put your trucks in the toaster...

My son has an addiction. My memory already escapes me as to when this obsession began for him exactly but it was before he finished his first year of life and has steadily become a stronger and mighty affliction.

Cole is consumed by all and anything to do with TRUCKS. When I state this most people will nod as if they understand that all little boys love toys with wheels. But I have been around other little boys at Cole's playdates and while at play areas and I have yet to see the desire in them for all things TRUCKS as I witness daily as Cole spends from dawn to dusk with his TRUCKS. It is the first word after MOMMY that he utters as he wakes and typically is the last word spoken before we turn out the lights at bedtime "night night trucks". Lately, he even wants a truck near his bed. He checks again and again after lights are out to ensure it is indeed within close grasp.

He trudges around, typically tripping over his trucks, as he lugs them around from room to room. He fills them with an assortment of items depending on their carrying capacity; board books, blocks, balls, blankets, crayons, cheerios, popcorn, and the occasional odd load such as dryer lint. He then proceeds to either inadvertently dump his cargo which sends him into an instant fit or he purposely unloads his freight in the middle of the kitchen as I attempt to prepare dinner while using the sharpest knife we have.

Trucks of varying dimensions are strewn in our cars, on all three floors of the house, in the bathtub, in our diaper bag, in his pockets, in and under the couch, and most recently, I found one on the shelf in the refrigerator.

He has his favorite trucks that he runs back and forth from our den to our living room (via the kitchen). I love that this exercise gives him a way to channel his energy however, on tile floors, the sound of plastic wheels screeching their way repeatedly after the 67th lap sometimes has a grating effect on my nerves. He used to have the backyard as the outlet for this activity but with our subzero winter temperatures and the amount of snow piled high since late November we are housebound and teetering on the brink of acquiring dreaded cabin fever hence our main floor has become a racetrack and highway of sorts.

Cole likes to be involved in whatever I am doing most of the time. Something I cherish and detest, two intense feelings blended together to form what I define as a "mixed emotion". It makes getting most tasks accomplished a sheer test of my patience. However I realize the importance of including him and showing him how to help and that trumps my internal dialogue which is normally taunting me since innately I am not a patient person. Many times to allow him to be a part of my task, I will bring a beloved truck with us to distract him which then permits me to get at least some chores DONE. He can run them over the counter as I cook or wipe down his trucks with a wet washcloth as I clean the bathroom or race ahead of me with his trucks as I vaccuum making it a game as I chase him with the Dyson.

But the clincher to this tale about trucks occurred last evening as I was cleaning up the spilled snacks on the counter as he stood on the dining room chair zooming his yellow Tonka crushing the Chex Mix into smaller and smaller pieces. I was getting a bit frustrated and redirected him to the other side of the counter where he promptly opened up our convection oven and tried to jam his Tonka into the toaster. He continued to bang and push (as I tried to quickly to clean up the aforementioned mess) with every intention of fitting his truck into the space. He looked at me blankly as if to say "mom, why won't this go in there"?? He then rammed his truck one last futile time and then began to fuss to which I retorted "Cole, please don't put your trucks in the toaster". It was an obvious remark to make considering the situation but I began to laugh as I realized how comical it sounded. So that goes into his scrapbook as one of the funnier "things you never thought you hear yourself saying out loud" kind of declaration.

The Apple doesn't fall far from the tree....

I am almost a week into a new year with my resolutions, lists of To-Do's, wishes, projects & a desire to find part time work while Cole is at Montessori school three days a week. The new year has also brought us into the throes of what I'm calling the BATTLE of the WILLS.

Cole turned two about a month ago and thus crossed the threshold into the age of self awareness. That stated, this means he is now in what the experts define as a period of "The Intentional Self". To me as a parent it should be more aptly titled "The Discerning, Determined, Wilful Disposition" and that is being mild (and kind) with an attempt at remaining within the confines of child development lingo.

Cole has from a very young age been an independent little guy. He crawled, walked and even lost his baby looks way before his peers. His focus, drive and sheer fortitude were words I used to describe him before his first birthday. He has continually amazed us at his limitless ability to soak up knowledge and spit it back out with a proud smile as he completes whatever task he has put forth in front of himself. He has shown an aptitude for tinkering with his toys, pulling parts off only to figure out how they go back together, babbling away to us in toddlerspeak as if to say "ha, look at that, it comes off but goes back on, cool"!

The above scenario is the fun aspect of watching him grow into a realization of his own competencies. The more challenging script plays out daily as he also understands that he can make what should be simple tasks a game, that he has a role now in determining the outcome of diaper changes, eating, getting dressed, and napping/sleeping (which for any of you who know what our past two years have been like with this facet of our day just means a continued journey of obstacles).

His new conscious appreciation of himself and how he as himself functions in this life is vital to his future self worth but at this tender age, we as his parents walk a tenuous line of providing guidance and balance against his powerful behavior.

Old school philosophy (aka our parents generation) believed in what was then the traditional approach of discipline, step out of line and you knew it with a raised voice and a swat (or two). Today's conundrum is how to handle obstinate behavior in order to make your child's choice part of the resolution teaching them they do have a voice but also allowing YOU as the parent to remain in charge (or maintain some semblance of authority).

HA...okay...I haven't figured this element of parenting out yet because my son's sweet face continues to taunt me as I try to keep a steady voice after three time outs for throwing his toys or as I try to slow my beating heart as he deliberately looks me in the eye and with Houdiniesque moves gets the grocery cart belt off and stands up again and again as I rush grabbing things off the shelves with one hand as I hold him in place with the other trying not to show that I'm sweating. Nap time takes the better part of an hour (and that doesn't include the sleeping) and the bedtime "ritual" exhausts us both as he flips, dives, jumps, jabbers, kicks, and on and on and on some nights. If we can just get him drowsy, we know we are in the homestretch but to get to the point requires an abundance of patience which at the end of long day is typically in depleted inventory.

I guess, just like with the previous chapters of motherhood I have mastered (or at least garnered more than rookie status at) I will have to persevere and find my way through the maze of this current phase. Over the course of my 37 years, I have been described as stubborn more times than I care to mention and I don't like to lose at anything either despite the fact that I have mellowed in other areas of my life. This makes for an interesting relationship with my son who obviously has replicated some of my DNA in his emerging self. The apple doesn't fall from the tree indeed.

Observations....

As 2008 comes to a close I can't help but be amazed as I peruse my journal from this past year. Since Cole's birth, I have kept bi-weekly observations about him, his growth, milestones, behaviors and emerging personality & character quirks in a special notebook. It has been important to me (much like my reason for maintaining this BLOG) to capture in print (or cyberprint) the everyday moments that so easily slip from my memory as weeks meld into one another. I wanted to be sure to honor who he was as an infant and a young toddler as I know I will not remember the little things five years from now that Dave and I currently find so fascinating about our lil guy.

Some of my remarks make me laugh out loud as they bring instant recall such as "has a staccato laugh, he sounds like a dolphin" (13 months); "babbles with what seems to be an European inflection in his voice, nods his head as he speaks" (14 months); "prefers to walk backwards and back into your lap" (14 months); "sits on bottom step of stairs and seems to ponder" (15 months); "mountain goat as a nickname is most fitting at this time" (15 months); "blows spittle and sucks it back in and laughs" (16 months); "Houdini has figured out how to undo the safety latches" (17 months); "future racecar driver as he LOVES to sit in the JEEP (while parked in the garage) and "drive" (17 months); "saying "TRUCK" repeatedly for anything with wheels" (18 months); "scared of thunder, the bathroom exhaust fan and Tucker's barking" (19 months); "puts paper of any kind in the toilet and flushes" (20 months); "finally enjoying books" (20 months); "broke his arm at Montessori, what an ordeal" (21 months); "made his TV debut on the PIC ME show on Noggin" (21 months); "using 2-3 word sentences with conviction despite the fact that we don't have a clue as to what he is saying" (22 months); "moved to big boy bed, so sad to see crib go" (22 months); "excitedly states "I DID IT" when he completes something" (23 months; "loves to give kisses and has become a snuggler as never before (23 months); "has mastered opening the refrigerator door" (24 months); "talking in slang already spouting out "YEP" (24 months)

I used words such as spirited, fearless, curious, and determined again and again as I read through my notations, words that consistently continue to define him as he enters his third year!

As Cole takes on bolder and more adventurous endeavors on his whirlwind tour of life, the realm of possibilities are endless as he leads us down his own path. Who knows what 2009 holds for him (and us) but I will make sure to continue to document his journey so that one day he will have a time stamp and first hand account of his life seen through his mother's eyes.

The greatest gift...

"Life's greatest gift is the complicated, maddening, rewarding and delicious involvement we have with those we dearly love"--Susan Cheever in "As Good As I Could Be"

As I rush around in the days before our road trip to Pennsylvania for Christmas I keep thinking back to the above quote. It is such a true statement that experiencing the intense relationships of our lives is the supreme gift that we should all be grateful for.

Raising Cole has reminded me to appreciate a person for they are. He is his own little person full of independence, drive and desire. When I get frustrated with his behavior, I have to remember that he is finding out about himself every day of every waking hour. I have to sometimes step back and respect that gigantic undertaking more than I do.

Our jobs as parents is not to tell them how to behave but to guide them and show them how to interact with themselves, others and the environment. Taking an extra moment to accept who they are becoming, helping them to process their emotions and forge ahead is vital to their future self awareness. It is so easy to wish the tantrum away, beg for them to act differently or get angry at their seemingly defiant ways but normally these acute reactions can be diffused with a quiet place, an offered hug or an acknowledgment that validates their confusion/frustration/resentment. The exact treatment we as adults request when having a tough go of it.

Cole is Cole and I would never want to be a part of making him be somebody other than himself!

Who knew...

Who knew that something as seemingly innocuous as a graham cracker or pretzel breaking into two parts could send Cole into apoplexy?

Who knew that Cole instantly begins to fret if I let him open the door in the freezer section of SuperTarget but do not let him close the door as well?

Who knew that attempting to take Cole's hat off or remove his shoes if he isn't ready (whatever that means on any given day) could send him skyrocketing into orbit?

Who knew that dropping his red car into the snow was a cardinal sin (prompting a screech high on the octave meter) but dropping the same red car into a muddy puddle elicits no reaction at all?

Who knew that my son could be so fascinated with trucks that it is his first word upon waking and his last word before snuggling in for the night (along with the 479 other times during the day that the word is uttered)?

Who knew that my two year old could be more entertaining than any comedian just by babbling away in toddler speak whilst putting his daddy's boots on backwards on opposing feet with his hat askew and flashing his million dollar smile?

Who knew that I could still experience pure joy as a jaded adult just by watching my little boy's life from the sidelines?

Unspoken tasks...

Fill every pocket of every jacket with tissues b/c the day I don't will be the day Cole's nose runs like a faucet and I'm forced to use my own sleeve or hand.

Fill humidifier daily to keep Cole's room like the air in Florida; soak and scrub out mineral deposits for its 18 parts weekly.

Empty nursery trash when the stink becomes offensive which to this bloodhound mom means often (along with all the other trashcans in the house)

Change Cole's big boy bed sheets which are on a mattress on the floor in the corner which requires yoga flexibility to complete and wash along with numerous blankies and snotty monkey weekly (along with all other household bedding and towels)

Keep inventory and stock all Cole's toiletry essentials (this means diapers, wipes, Tylenol, Motrin, handi-wipes, toddler toothpaste, tissues, butt paste, eczema cream, bubble bath; this is in addition to all the general household toiltries including making sure there is toilet paper, paper towels, napkins where they need to be at all times.

Keep Cole's diaper bag filled with requisite supplies (besides most of the aforementioned essentials diaper bag musts also include change of clothes, bags for dirty whatever and toys/cars to distract during meltdowns)

Maintain stocked refrigerator with already prepared sippy cups full of water and milk (mixed white with chocolate of course) for when the prince beckons that he is thirsty! (this again saves those precious 30 seconds that it normally would take me to fill a cup from having to listen to the WHINE).

Maintain stocked pantry with favorite (and mostly healthy)snacks and meals. Since Cole confounds me by eating well one week and not the next, I am always balancing what I have in the cabinets (this is in addition to the general household grocery shopping). Thank goodness Costco carries organic products now!!

Prepare meals knowing what his likes and dislikes are for that day/week; know how toasted he likes his waffles/bagels; how warm he likes his mac and cheese; how much he prefers cream cheese over jam; his fondness for soft pretzels, fruit popsicles and scrambled eggs

Order and have on hand extra soft plastic lids for Cole's sippy cups (since he has become fond of poking holes in them or dabbing the cups upside down on any surface to get the liquid out as a form of entertainment). He currently refuses to drink out of a hard spouted cup.

Wipe down all surfaces of the house that seem to acquire handprints (let along paw prints) and spilled "whatever". This is an ongoing and frustrating task along with cleaning the rest of the house which constantly looks as if I haven't cleaned at all.

Vaccuum out the car seat, stroller, couch (in and under)and steam clean the carpet often. Need I say more about this?

Sweep and mop the tile and hardwood floors as necessary (aka ALL THE FREAKING TIME) as Cole (and Tucker) seem to leave a trail of fluids and sticky messes wherever they go which I then step in.

Store all necessary pediatric numbers/addresses, insurance group and policy numbers, social security numbers and appointment reminders using what I have left for a brain (as well as in my phone/wallet)

Reserve books from library weekly (so we have a stack all ready for us) because after perusing the shelves ourselves for 8 minutes and making a mess of their orderly system, Cole shifts into manic mode, his outdoor voice is frowned upon and we must make a hasty exit.

Arrange playdates, host playdates, sign up for _______ (art, music, tumble) classes, bundle up and venture out for a walk at the nature preserve, park, trails, find fun places to go (museum, rec center, seasonal specific fairs).

Organize Cole's clothes, label Cole's clothes, shoes, jackets, hats et al (per Montessori policy), wash Cole's clothes (including remembering what has stains), buy Cole's clothes, and find Cole's clothes (missing gloves, socks, shoes); ensure he has clothes to grow into since he gains an inch every other week it seems.

Clean up Cole's playroom and the rest of the house where toys migrate; search for missing puzzle pieces, car wheels, and blocks; tape book pages together; replace batteries; change up baskets of toys and books from room to room so that he finds "new" things all over again;

Be alert at all times, constantly monitoring his activities and location...knowing what kiddo is up to even when you can't see him. Knowing his weak spots to avoid public tantrums; knowing his likes and dislikes on all levels; realizing that fine window of time for getting him down for a nap; gauging his unpredictable mood to plan the day; letting Cole be Cole but with boundaries that makes us both relatively comfortable.

Be able to contort myself to reach the toy (truck) he drops from his car seat for the umpteenth time while driving 60mph to avoid the inevitable screeching that will ensue otherwise.

Be able to sing verses of any and all children's songs/lullabies and be willing to sing them anywhere and in front of anyone to avoid nuclear reactions as for Cole, singing is an almost instant pacifier.

Be strong enough to discipline Cole in public for bad behavior to solidify that bad behavior isn't acceptable no matter our locale. This is one of the most difficult responsibilities.

Be able to read and reread Cole's favorite book (about TRUCKS of course) after the 50th, 100th, 250th time and still maintain a silly, positive voice!

Be able to just laugh once I get Cole into 3 layers of clothes, his snowpants, jacket, gloves, hat and snowboots only to have him take a crap with a smile on his face.