Mr. Independent

Dear LittleDude,

If you want to take a bath, it is much easier to say "Bath," or "Take bath," or "Bath, please" than it is to turn on the water yourself & then climb in fully clothed while I get your toys fro the other bathroom. Also, the water is not as cold if you let me turn it on & wait until I tell you it's ok to get in.

I love you.
Love, Mommy

Good Habit, Bad Tools

Dear LittleDude,

Please stop using my toothbrush and moisturizer to practice brushing your teeth when I'm not looking. You don't rinse the toothbrush very well, and the moisturizer tastes awful. Plus, it's kind of expensive.

I love you.
Love, Mommy

Night Night, Vinci

Dear LittleDude,

This is one of those moments I wish DaVinci would magically be able to speak English if we fed him alphabet soup (a la Martha on PBS Kids). You want so badly for him to answer you when you tell him "night night," and it just doesn't quite cut it for Mommy or Daddy to answer for him.

I love you.
Love, Mommy

Baby, Baby, Baby...Ooooh, Baby, Baby, Baby!

Dear LittleDude,

Why do you wake up and start repeating "Bay-beeee, Bay-bee, Baby" now? Are you trying to tell Mommy to come get the baby? Or are you singing a Justin Bieber song? Please let it be the former (even if that song is rather catchy).

I love you.
Love, Mommy

Bust my buffers!

Dear LittleDude,

Yes, that giggling you hear is your daddy and me laughing at you trying to break out of your room by banging your Percy flashlight against your bed rails. It wouldn't be quite as funny as if you didn't keep turning the flashlight on so we'd hear, "Bust my buffers! It's dark in here!" followed by your little giggles.

Love, Mommy

Little Action. Big Impact.

Dear LittleDude,

Today, small actions of discipline started making a big impact. Yesterday, if I said "no," you'd either listen or ignore me. If you ignored me, I would say "no" more emphatically or -- if necessary -- grab your hand, pull you away from the danger, take whatever curiosity your curious little hands had latched onto away, or whatnot. Then you would throw a little fit and move on. Today, I said "no," and your little face crumpled like the world had just ended because we disagreed on whether or not the dining room table really needed a silver crayon motif. This must be what your Gammoo was talking about when she used to tell me punishing me hurt her more than it hurt her.

I love you.

Love, Mommy

Eww, yucky!

Dear LittleDude,

Today, you decided you don't like raisins. Or maybe you decided you did. Here's what happened.

At the commissary this morning, you were anti-sit-in-the-cart and anti-walk. I tried bribing you with a sucker, but since our last trip to the commissary when I broke down and let you have a cookie from the package we were buying, you were also anti-sucker. So, cookie it was. You chose oatmeal-raisin from the bakery. I tried to convince you to go for the chocolate chip since those are your favorite, but the oatmeal raisin looked yummier to you. Maybe the raisins looked like big chocolate chips.

I knew you were disappointed the moment you bit into the cookie because your little nose crinkled up, you got that look on your face that says "Eww, yucky!" and you continued to be anti-cart. For the record, it is very difficult to shop for groceries with a 28-pound two-year-old hanging around your neck while munching a cookie and holding an un-opened sucker. It is even harder to shop for groceries while that two-year-old is spitting the icky raisins from his otherwise delicious oatmeal cookie down your shirt or picking them out of his mouth with his fingers and trying to shove them into your own mouth. Just so you know, kiddo, Mommy is not a huge fan of raisins either -- especially not half-chewed raisins (even if they were half-chewed by the cutest kid in the world).

The kicker? Once we got home and had lunch, you wanted one of the eleven remaining cookies. And you ate it -- and an extra -- without a whimper, raisins and all. So, you either like raisins, or you don't. But we're not going to find out which during next week's trip to the commissary.

I love you.
Love, Mommy