A: How old are you Ronan?
R: [holding up chubby fingers that articulate only semi-independently] One...two...three!
Ronan is three. We have been Ronan's parents for three years. This seems right and good, and we have settled into our ways as a family that are trying and comforting, exhausting and replenishing. The bonds we've formed are incredible to me. When I have to spend an evening at work I itch to get home to see Ronan. I feel pride when I think of him, not because I can claim responsibility, but because he is a part of me (that I love). (For his part, he is proud of the crunching noises he makes when he eats things. "Do you want to hear my crunch?" is a multi-weekly, if not daily, occurrence of late.) It's hard not to sound trite with this kind of stuff because it's more universal than unique, but the process of growing up is still one amazing thing after another to me.
Ronan turning three is still a lover of words, but now he delights in finding word connections.
A few days ago he met a grownup Paula and said: "I know another Paula. The other paula is polli-nation." For the record, I was shocked that he knew the word pollination at all. When I said something was fragile he mentioned that there was one of those in "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" (which took me a minute to even figure out). He is starting to tell stories and although they lack plot arcs, they have plot. And it is charming to hear what he comes up with.
R: I'm gonna eat you, says the possum. But first I'm gonna put spice on your toes.
Here comes the spice!
R: Mama, come help me. I'm trapped by a vole. And it put me in its mouth.
And it said "ooh, yucky". But the sign says no fighting with voles here. (11/18/12)
He likes to use overly adult words and phrases, with greatly exaggerated intonation. It's hard to really believe that's how he talks, but he does. The only example I have is not the best:
A: Ro look, there are pretty decorations.
R: Oh, what lovely things. (11/23)
Ro is kind and gentle. He likes to pretend he's my mom and take care of me, which either involves petting my head if I'm fine, or offering me one of his gummy vitamins if I have a headache. He is concerned by any baby he hears crying, and he wants to know why. He loves bandaids and coldees.
He frustrates easily like most toddlers, but so far can be won over by explanations or distraction much of the time. About a week ago foot stomping entered the equation when he's upset, so who knows what else three has in store.
Since last month, Ro dressed up as a lion for halloween and a birthday party and any other excuse to wear a costume. We had a visit from friends and now Tata and Boo are here. We had a pancake breakfast birthday party and nobody got hurt and most of the pancakes got eaten. We have had no snow, but many early wood stove fires crashed out on the floor mat. This Thanksgiving, I am grateful for all the wonderful people in our lives, and for the quiet time with a book or sketch pad I occasionally now enjoy!
| Awesome birthday construction cupcakes (not made by me!) |
More quotes:
R: Carry me daddy!
D: Are you a little sleepy?
R: No, I'm just a lazy boy.
11/3
[After many iterations of "do you want to hear my crunch"?]
R: I want you to invite me to hear your crunch
11/15
R: I have a letter. It says "Dear Nana and Papa, I love Nana and Papa and Mama and Dada"
11/15
R: I want facepaint
A: What do you want to be?
R: A sick giraffe
11/21
A: Do you want to come to lab with me?
R: Yeah, cuz I want to see oxytocin
Three years after life changed so dramatically, it is hard to imagine it any other way.
We love you Ro!