At some point I'm going to have to correct HR's grammar, but his preferred form of polite inquiry, "Mama, can I may have...", just tickles me. Most of what he's doing these days is knocking me over with amazement and gratitude that I get to be his mother. That is one treacle tart of a sentence and I own up to it and I don't care. He is not the golden scion of the universe whose every action is beyond reproach, I'm not even trying to paint that picture, just that this becoming-an-independent-person stage is one fun surprise after another. I was obviously prepared for my kid to plant a flag for babylandia in the center of my heart before I even knew what sex he would be, but if you told me the second I first laid eyes on him that I could ever love him more than I did at that moment I wouldn't have thought it possible. It's a terrific shock every time I re-assess how much of my life he owns.
This weekend we made a quick trip to visit Mike's parents. It was a great experience because as you know I'm very pro-grandparents, but he also had such a blast it made my heart sing. We talked about going to Connecticut for days before leaving, and he got increasingly more excited because he remembers things now and he knows that staying at Grandma's means unlimited access to vintage Fisher Price toys and the height of the exotic: Dr. Seuss movies on VHS. The lil'est hipster, that's my boy. He's also interacting easily with his grandparents these days, which is nice because there were times where his loving-ness was tempered with "don't even LOOK at me, poison strangers" hysterics. I know it was a normal phase, but I'm glad that seems to have passed. He even tolerated the doting ladies at my father-in-law's housing complex, which I was not expecting. Mike's youngest brother and wife came by with their little girl who is four months younger than HR, and every time they see each other they get a little closer to being playmates. Unfortunately her enthusiasm for using the potty did not rub off on him, but all in good time. I'm psyched that they get to grow up together, even though they don't live too close, they see each other enough they should be able to establish a proper partner-in-crime relationship.
One more super endearing thing before I go: when HR is playing with his trains or his guys or whatever, he narrates as if he's reading a book. He'll be doing whatever with some Sesame Street figures and tell the story as it happens in his mind, like, "ERNIE! WHERE ARE YOU?, he said." It makes sense that he would do this because he's been trained by being read to, also most kids' shows have a narrator. But it still cracks me up. I just have to be a superspy whenever I want to observe him in the act because once he knows he's being watched, game over.
Mike and I can't get enough of hearing HR sing the song in today's musical selection. Technically this is not great parenting on our part as he wouldn't know the song without us teaching it to him, but for what it lacks in appropriateness, it makes up in comedic gold.
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