Sunday, November 8, 2009

The mind of my 3 year old

With just ten hours to go before I'm due at the hospital to have my second, I thought it would be fitting to write about my first born son.

He is, without a doubt, a complete nut... and I love him to pieces. Kaden's at an age right now where I really wish I could preserve every fragment of his imagination, write down every word he says, and capture everything he does on video.

I've probably said this at every stage he's gone through... but he is really developing quite a little personality.

Oh, the things he does... Yesterday morning he was eating dry apple jacks cereal for breakfast. Of course, he didn't eat them all and they ended up scattered on my parent's living room floor. I told him to pick them up once, and surprisingly, he listened very well.... but it didn't take long at all before he had a few strung out again. For the last time before we headed back home, I told him to pick the cereal up off the floor... Again, he listened... though he didn't do it as I had intended for him to... =/

No, leave it to Kade to get on his hands and knees and pick up his trail of apple jacks one by one with his mouth like a dog following a kibble trail directly into a cage.

On his wild imagination.. Earlier this afternoon, I dressed him in the Spiderman (or "SPYMAN" as Kade calls him) Halloween costume that his Papaw Ed sewed together out of two pairs of blue sweatpants and a red turtleneck. I snapped a couple picks of him on my phone before he climbed into my lap and licked my forehead.

"What in the world are you doing?" I asked him, perplexed. He started panting like a dog. "I'm Bolt!" He proclaimed proudly, as I dodged a second lapping.
His daddy took him trick or treating as Bolt, so I knew he was making a connection with wearing costumes... I love that imagination, and I appreciate the gesture, but I prefer real kisses, not dog-like lick kisses!

As for the things he says?
Shortly before the Spiderman/Bolt identity crisis and after having 2 hot dogs, some Doritos and a Nutripals chocolate shake for lunch (that makes up for the Doritos and mystery meat, right?) Kaden had a nasty thick, smelly, poopy diaper. Fantastic. He's usually just a once-a-day pooper, so I wasn't expecting him to go anymore, but I told him to tell me the next time he had to go. He went through a list of other trusted adults.

"Or tell Steve?" He asked.
"Yep, or tell Steve!" I replied.
"Or Aaron? Or Grandma Debby? Or Papaw Ed? Or Grandma Elsie?" On and on down his list he went.
"Yes, Kade, just tell someone you have to go!"
"Okay" He said happily, as if he actually was going to listen this time. We've been through this a million times, and he always tells us when it's too late.
"Or better yet," I said teasingly, "If you have to poop again, wait until you're at Grandma Debby's!" Yes, I'm an awful mother.
"Okay!" He said again, and he wandered upstairs to play.

A few hours later, and about ten minutes before my parents arrived to pick him up (they're keeping him tonight, since we'll be leaving for the hospital between 4:30 and 5am) Kade came running downstairs in a hurry.

"Mommy! Mommy! I pooped! I pooped!" he said, backing his butt up to me for proof, "We gotta go to Grandma Debby's!"

All I could do was laugh, giggle, snicker and call my mom to tell her all about the bullet she'd just dodged. Did he make the connection that I wanted him to be at Grandma's when he pooped? Or did he poop again because he thought he would get to see Grandma Debby?

The latter honestly scares me. This kid loves my mom...

If Kaden starts pooping every time he wants to see Grandma Debby, I'll literally be in deep shit..

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