Dear Gray: Month Twenty-Nine

Dear Grayson,

Well, you have informed us that you prefer to be called "Grayson" over "Gray." I finally realized one day that you never, ever refer to yourself as "Gray" so I asked you what you liked better. Your answer (as it often is) was "My name is Grayson Henry Luxner!" This is what you say when we say you're silly, or anything else like that. So Grayson it is.

Grayson, you are a first class curmudgeon. You don't like to have your picture taken, you don't want to go someplace fun, you AREN'T hungry and, most especially, you DON'T want to say "ooga booga." (This is something Phil does to you because he thinks it's hilarious. "Grayson, can you say ah-ooga?" "I DON'T want to say ah-ooga!") I have been trying to entice you to go to the farmer's market with me tomorrow morning for a fun outing, just the two of us. Finally today you told me "I don't want to go everywheres, I just want to stay home with Dada." Fine. I shouldn't have assumed that I could compete with your dada, I suppose! It's just that you have had a particularly hard time with my travel schedule lately, and I wanted to spend some extra time with you.

It seems like a two-year-old's world is filled with "don't." I'm sorry, and I'm working on how to make it seem less that way. However, if you torture Archie one more time I think I might completely lose it. Unfortunately you know this, and I think you use it to your advantage. Ironically, this morning the first thing you said to me was, "I just love terriers." Oh, Grayson... I laughed so hard I almost cried, and it reminded me why I love your dada: he can make me laugh before I'm really even awake. That's talent, and I think you have inherited it from him.

We went to Auntie Terri's house to play tonight and I was struck with what a well-mannered boy you are. You said "please" and "thanks" without being asked, and I was so, so proud of you. What a nice boy you are! You are very kind to Eli and I don't think it has even occurred to you that you could be mean to him. The kids from across the street came over yesterday and it was so cute to watch you talk to them. You said "Alli, watch this! I'm playing stick drums!" and then you sang "Old McDonald" to her. You are truly a sweetheart when you want to be.

Two is hard, but what is even harder is that you talk like a four-year-old. I think a lot of times I forget that you really only turned two pretty recently, and your emotions and logic are not like that of an older child. I think we are learning that in the midst of an epic tantrum that you just... need a minute. If we set you up in front of the TV or in your rocking chair with some books you typically can pull it together. You have always been this way- you are a guy who just needs a little extra time to figure things out for yourself.

Up next: the big boy bed. You have been telling everyone that you are going to get a big boy bed and Mama is going to snuggle with you. Yesterday I asked you where we were going to put the bed in your room, since your crib was going to have to be moved. You were totally perplexed and astounded by this- as far as you are concerned that crib is not going anywhere!

I love you, little boy.
Mama