Thursday, September 25, 2008

Dear Littles - Chapter Eleven

Dear Littles,

Yesterday evening after work we did something different. A new strategy. A new game. A new plan to entertain you, still yet spend good quality time with you. We planned a picnic and some playtime in the park. I was "high-fiving" myself all over the place for coming up with yet another way to spend the evening that didn't entail fifteen calves, cow poop, and a mud filled water hose.

Just you and me, we went to the grocery store on the town square and we each ordered our own Ham Sandwich ... custom made right down to Jay's pickles. You each got your own sandwich wrapped in it's own Saran wrap and your own little sack. We ventured through all four aisles of the little grocery store and picked up Banana's, a bag of chips and a drink, and you each got a piece of bubble gum for your pocket. "For after we eat", you all said in unison.

You thought you were so cool! I thought you were so cute. You thought you were big stuff. I said to myself, "They're not my babies anymore." You marched like little ducks in a row and followed your leader, just like you do everyday. You melted my heart yet one more time. You reminded me again of how blessed I am, and just how wonderful having you has truly enriched my life.

Then we drove to the little park to have a picnic, and you still yet amazed me again. You sat at the table, all in a row, and you ate better than ever. Every bite was in anticipation of playing in the park ... and that little piece of bubble gum in your pocket.

Then before we even got the chance to play on the swings and the slide and all the things that you always climb on, someone had to go poop. That someone would be you Jay. So we got the little potty chair out of the back of the van and made you a throne inside. Meg, Sam and I sat in the sliding door opening so no would see you ... and of course, we did NOT look at you. That would have been a sin. So I whistled while you pooped, and I tried to teach Sam and Meg to whistle too ... then we sang a few songs while we listened to you in the background grunting and carrying on like you haven't pooped in a month ... and we did not look at you, not even when I wiped your butt on the napkins they gave you with your sandwich. All that for only one little deposit in the potty chair! But you were happy and it's a part of life. Pooping is good, and especially when you're only three years old and don't do it in your pants. I am so proud of you for that. ... and off you ran to play.

As I watched you running towards the slide, I saw you make a big circle and come running back to me. You had to poop again you said. "Jay! Jay! Are you serious?" I ask. So off to the van we go yet again with Meg and Sam in tow! You were right ... you had to poop again! Then Sam had to poop and Meg had to pee ... and our little picnic just had to come to an end.

As we drove the two miles to home, we watched the sun setting in the distance and we hurried up to try to catch it, and we tried to whistle while holding our noses, and you were laughing and singing and talking funny. Everyone was happy, and it was a good day, and I only wish that you could remember these times of being Three.

Have I ever told you how very perfect you are? Can you tell by the way I look at you how very much I love you? You are .... and I do.

I will love you forever, and then some ...