:: adventures of a 2 year old ::

last friday, at about 8am, graham asked me:

"ash-a-leeeee, are we going on an adventure today?"

i asked him what kind of adventure he had on his mind. he replied:

"what about the the-air-ter?"

he went on to explain that he really really really wanted to see the movie "UP". So, against all my better judgements, i agreed to take all three boys to the movies that afternoon.

i must have had a short, severe lapse of common sense when i thought it would be possible to take a 6 year old, 2 1/2 year old and a 8 month old to the movies. but i talked myself into it by reasoning that tons of other people (single moms/dads, stay at home moms/dads, jon & kate + 8, etc) do this kind of thing every day. i also reasoned that it would be increasingly horrible to limit graham's summer adventures just because his brothers were younger.

so after everyone was fed, clothed, pottied, shoed and educated on "the-air-ter" behavior, we headed outside to load up carseats and excited movie-goers. at 6, graham is pretty self-sufficient. and he is so extremely obedient and well behaved. you have only to tell him what to do, and you know it will be done. at 8 months, dean is getting active, but still content to be carried in his seat: wide-eyed and alert, taking in the whole world.

so it's reid, my little 2 year old tornado, that makes me adopt the mind of a mother. he's the one who will run into the street. who will throw a cast-iron hot wheels car at the baby. who will dump his lunch plate onto the floor because he's trying to lick the mac-cheese remnants off it. who still needs a story to fall asleep. he's the one kicking my seat on the drive--making me realize it really is as annoying as my parents made it out to be. he's the one who needs a booster seat, that i don't have a free hand to grab, at the movies. but in the same vein, he's also the one who runs down the stairs in the morning and right into my arms to snuggle. he's the one who giggles the loudest at just about everything. who hugs the dogs like they are his best friends. who still asks to take his socks off for nap. who wants so badly to be independent, but still wants you to help at the same time--because he can't do it on his own quite yet.

reid makes me think like a mom. helps me be selfless like a mom. helps me to love unconditionally like a mom. he's the quintessential mischievous little boy. right down to feeding his sandwich crust to the pups.