hello. goodbye. summer

Has it really been a month since my last post? A registration letter from the nursery school has reminded me that summer is soon coming to a close. How so very quickly it flew. And, so much to report.

hello, trying three's
Two weeks before nursery school classes ended, I was bracing myself for a long, torturous summer. Little Dude had morphed into a child I barely recognised then. His answer to every request or suggestion was "No, no, no!" He screamed. He ran away. He ignored. He pushed my buttons. And, then he seemed to cackle in delight at it all.

Our confrontations came daily.

Admittedly, before summer began, he had his moments and drove me mad at times. But I had never been pushed to the point where I felt out of control. Where I felt like screaming out loud and tearing every strand of my hair out.

And then finally ... it happened.

The patience that I was able to muster in the past did not surface. My voice thundered and I scolded him like I never before. It frightened Little Dude to see me so angry. It scared me a little, too. But mostly I felt ashamed. This level of anger and frustration had escaped from my voice only once before and it had been directed at an adult. I felt awful for Little Dude.

A few days later, I felt my frustration heightening again. I grabbed the kitchen sink with both hands and let out a sheepish but long grunt, "Arggghhh!" The release felt good. I was still grasping the sink when I heard Little Dude run up behind me to ask, "Is it heavy, mommy??"

Giggles and laughter. Much better.

Little Dude's bout of extreme rebelliousness didn't last long. He still has his moments but I've been able to exhume sweet patience from its hiding place. Our days are much more enjoyable again.

so long, dummy
My boys, during one of their games of chase, proved an interesting thing. When the head of an almost 2-year-old collides with the teeth of a 3 1/2-year-old, the head will win.

The head gets a slight red mark with barely a complaint out of the almost 2-year-old.

The teeth, however, get an emergency visit to the dentist a week following the collision and the 3 1/2-year-old sports a blackened front tooth until his adult teeth come in.

The good news: The mommy (who is feeling brave/lucky at having survived the worst of the trying three's stage) takes this opportunity to rid the 3 1/2-year-old of his dummy while at the dentist's office. She offers the soother to her son and asks him to hand it to the dentist in a grand ceremony, declaring that he is now a big boy and doesn't need a dummy. The boy complies, possibly, because he hasn't been able to use his soother at night because of his sore gums and tooth. And, that is that.

the scoop on poop
Getting rid of the dummy was easy peasy. Toilet training? Not so much. Trying to ride on the wave of good fortune following our farewell-to-the-dummy milestone, we decided to give toilet training a go again. I'm happy to report that Little Dude is now using the toilet regularly. However, accidents still abound. Our boy will not sit on the throne unless he is invited, it seems.

Not yet completely toilet-trained but much progress has been had.

Life is good.