For me, 3 years feels like nothin' special. It takes me just about that long to put the names with the faces with the houses of all my neighbors. There are some projects that I've been meaning to finish for that long. There are some friends I haven't seen in over three years, who, upon reunion would pick up old jokes and memories as if they happened yesterday.

But 3 years is a big deal when it comes to little people.



And for now, this kid (now 3) is my last primeval link to raw motherhood. He is my baby (even now while a new crop grows inside me). As for being a mother of a 3-year-old, with 3 children, I have learned that some kids come with their own personality. I despise to see overindulged kids who are in obvious control of their parents:

Like this past summer when I was behind a mom at the grocery store. She was with her pre-schooler who had over 20 mosquito bites just on his face. She is laughing and joking in line about how her kid just hates repellent and refuses to put it on. Ha ha ha! Oh well. Deadly viruses going around with mosquitoes but he hates it!

Inside I'm thinking...who's the boss here?

But then I head to Thanksgiving Dinner with lots of extended family and my "baby" is wearing these for shoes:



In my demand for common sense parental override (think of mosquito lady), I insisted he take off his red shorts and get long pants on. He wore his Buzz Lightyear "jwamas" because they are long sleeve and it's winter. And while other 3 year olds, dressed in jeans with festive sweaters and leather shoes were put in the corner to finish their plates before moving onto pie, my child ate a pile of meat and 2 rolls...in his jwamas.

Plus that picture was taken by The Buddha Baby...on my camera that he found while I was busy with turkey dinner. And yes since his "phone playtime" my ringer no longer works. Sorry I keep missing everyone's calls.



I hate to admit it: but I think this kids got my number. I'm trying my hardest not to be mosquito lady but when I'm in public, and I keep telling myself "pick your battles mother" I wonder if I'm in the front of the grocery line lugging a swollen miserable kid left to his own devices.

But let's be honest, he would totally have your number too.

right?

Here's why we love this kid around here:

Notice this Star Wars, true blue t-shirt purchased by Grandma Anderson. This shirt has caused a revolution in our house. He wears it all day, to bed, and cries when I peel it off him to throw in the wash. Blue has overthrown pink as his new favorite color.


He's just a rough and tumble boy and it's pretty darn cute.

Even water fountains have no chance on his mad jedi/spiderman/tough guy skillz.

As a personality adjustment to kid #3, I have learned that if I really want him to go quickly down for a nap during the day (this doesn't happen at night...so I'm still the boss right?) I need to lay down with him. Usually when he's especially unreasonable, whiny, or bossy...we lay down and he gets a much-needed recharge. Lately? He's whiny and I think he needs a nap and I end up taking one alone.

I'm worried that unreasonable, whiny, and bossy is the new 3-year old standard. Time will tell.



He happens to have the softest skin on the planet by the way. Have you ever kneaded super-soft white flour bread dough? Those are his thighs, cheeks, and tummy. He is french pastry all silky and smooth. I think I kiss him 50 times a day.

Overheard recently here at Mrs. Olsen's house...

As a born and bred Idaho Girl, I was excited for a recent reunion away from the farm, over the river and through the woods to Island Park. Driving through southeast Idaho, the valleys are wide and plain. Plod further north and you get to beautiful Ashton, and right on the border of that town, you see the impending rise of the land, a major geologic shift forcing your transmission to growl. Within the course of a mile, the landscape transitions from wide sagebrush plains and winding rivers to forest. Don't think lush Oregon forest: ferns underground shaded by the massive outstretched arms of pinion pines catching oceanic gusts. It's just miles and miles and miles of tall, straight, narrow Lodgepole Pines.

Remember this post and my little boy's obsession with all things pink?

Some bonus chubby cheek action below:

Now that I've established that my son is a Jedi-in-training (see previous post), and that he's sure to dominate the galaxy someday with his testosterone, acting talent, and handsome good looks, then I can make my confession.

I can't believe how fast these little people are becoming bigger people. Here's a recent trick we taught to our puppy.

If you live in a cave, click here.

Still eating salad every day, but it's taking me a week and a half to document one week of doing so. I could drive the final nail in my blog's coffin if I decided to write every stinkin' day about salad. I think highlighting a week every once in a while will suffice. Besides, if I am eating greens every day in 2010...I have plenty of time. Still going strong!

When I confessed to the world that I owned a cheap resin goose, that she had been mended a few times despite my hollow protestations of cheesiness (and set back on the porch), and that she had different outfits to match holidays, seasons, and inklings....well, you said you would make her a new outfit.

I even asked if you were for real. Paula, would you really make Gwendolyn a new outfit?, I asked. That would be so cool! I then exclaimed.

Just so you know, Gwendolyn the Goose has a Santa outfit, so she's covered for the Holidays. She's been diligent to watch over well-wishers, holiday deliverers, and even punk toddlers that fake cry to get attention. She's been good to us, and was happy for the extra facial hair during last week's below zero madness. I told her that you accidentally taught your toddler swear words while sewing 3 homemade bridesmaids dresses that were shiny with satin and a layer of tulle.