Simon is four years old today!

My dearest Simon,

Happy Birthday, my sweet sunny boy. I can hardly believe you are four years old already! I completed the paperwork this week to enroll you in school this coming September, and could hardly believe that you are old enough — and yet, I know you’ve been ready for this for months.

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You are, in my humble and unbiased opinion, plenty clever for a four year old. You can recognize your name and many of the letters of the alphabet, and you can count to 29. You have cute linguistic quirks that I secretly hope you never grow out of, including still saying “lellow” despite being clearly able to pronounce the letter Y in other contexts, and you tend to say, “What you said?” instead of a more polite “Pardon me?”, something I know I should correct but can’t bring myself to do.

At four, you know what you like: guacamole roll-ups; “pink meat” sandwiches with mustard on the side; chocolate milk; superheros; Star Wars; video games like Cars and Star Wars Complete Saga and the games on the Nick Jr website. You like salty better than sweet, and love to dip your food (and your fingers) in tzatziki, ketchup, mustard, or just about anything else. You like dogs, Curious George, Pixar movies, Tom and Jerry, Robert Munsch books and the stories about Matthew’s Midnight Adventures.

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You are a lover, I can see that clearly. When your brother recently tried to get a rise out of you by taunting “Simon likes giiiiiirrrrlllsss!” in a sing-song voice, you simply agreed, saying, “Of course I like girls. I like all of them in the universe.” Your best friend at nursery school is Laila, sometimes called Lulu, but you seem to get along well with just about everyone. I can clearly see that your true best friend is your brother – when he is not your mortal enemy. I love the relationship the two of you share.

You have an uncanny memory, and have recently surprised me by reminding me of incidents that happened while you were sitting in your high chair — at least two or two and a half years ago. You consistently beat us at memory games, and love to play board games of any type. I also suspect you are musically inclined, and you love to paint pictures at your school and bring them home dedicated to the various members of your family.

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You love your pyjamas, and would happily stay in them all day if we let you. For the most part, you’d prefer to stay inside than go out, and you are content to stay home with Daddy while your brother and I venture out for walks with the dog or on other adventures that include physical exertion.

You start almost every single day by crawling into bed with me, and despite my exhortations to be quiet, you define being quiet as singing to yourself, or reciting long passages from your favourite books and movies in a whisper that I can’t help but eavesdrop on. You love to give kisses. I honestly couldn’t count the number of kisses you have given me over the past few weeks as we wait together for your baby brother to arrive. You started life as a jealous and possessive little fellow, wanting to be held constantly and begrudging my attention to any other child, so I worried a little bit when I first became pregnant again how you might deal with the arrival of a new sibling. You have eased those fears down to nothing over the past nine months, and were even willing to share your birthday with your new baby brother if it came down to that. It now looks increasingly unlikely that you’ll have to do that, but I’m still thrilled with how genuinely excited you are about the pending arrival of your baby brother and your delight about being the older brother for a change.

I love you, Simon, more and more every day! Happy birthday, my sweet boy!

(the pictures in this post all came from my visit to Simon’s nursery school earlier this week)

Simon’s party

Phew! For nine months, I’ve been worried that the Player to be Named Later would arrive just in time to disrupt Simon’s birthday party. That’s not to say he might not still arrive on his due date to share Simon’s actual birthday, but at least we made it through the party uninterrupted!

We kept things small, easy and, quite frankly, easy to cancel or reschedule! We invited only family or friends so close they may as well be family. We met at a local indoor playground and let the kids play out some energy before inviting them back to our place for cake and prezzies.

Simon and Amelia
Simon charmed the grown-ups by taking quite seriously my admonition to take care of his friend Amelia, and held her hand the first 10 minutes we were there.

Coffee and chat
It’s great to finally have the kids at an age where the grown-ups can relax and chat while the kidlets play.

'Just what I wanted!'
Star Wars Lego was a big hit! Just as I was snapping this photo, Simon was exclaiming his delight and gratitude to Granny and Papa Lou for “just what I wanted!!!”

Simon's superhero cake

It was a great birthday, full of fun for the kids and low-key and laid back for the adults. I couldn’t have asked for anything more, and Simon was delighted.

Seven random things about… Simon

About a million years ago, Laura from Lunatic Fringe tagged me for the “Seven Random Facts About Me” meme. I’ve done a bunch of these over the years, and it’s getting tough to come up with more fresh stuff that you don’t already know about me, which is part of the reason I’ve sat on this for so long.

Then, inspiration struck. You might not need to know seven more random things about me — but what about seven random things about Simon, the cutest preschooler on the planet?

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1. He’s adorable. No, really, he is. He’s one of those sweet-natured, flirty, adorable three-going-on-four-year-olds who just seem to have a natural ability to charm people. And he uses it shamelessly to his advantage.

You're my brother

2. He’s going through a kissing phase right now. I’m laughing to myself just thinking of his puckered puss as he offers it to me to be kissed many, many times a day.

Simon at six months

3. He’s adventurous in his food choices. He’ll try just about anything, and often asks for us to share what we’re having. He loves salsa (even and perhaps especially the hot stuff), fruits of all kinds (but he favours bananas and apples), guacamole, and mustard. He’s also a “dipper” and will dip just about any kind of food into any kind of dip.

First birthday cake

4. He’s got a preternatural memory. He regularly beats all of us at Memory-type card games, and even his preschool teacher has commented on his ability to remember details of past experiences. He quantifies everything from a few hours ago to last year as “Remember a long, long time ago, when….?” but recalls far more than I ever do. Someday, that will come back to bite me in the ass in a big way – mark my words!

Easter eggs

5. He likes predictability and routine. Every single morning, he asks me the exact same questions: “Is Jen coming today?” and “Are you going to work, or the gym, or the airport today?” (Granted, I go to work five days a week, and the gym once a week, but I’ve only gone to the airport twice, maybe three times, in his entire lifetime. And yet, the airport ranks in his daily questioning – and will be further ingrained when in fact I do fly out to Toronto for another conference next week!) He also asks me, every day without fail as I walk in the door and often before I get my shoes off, “What’s for dinner tonight?”

Simon's first birthday adventure

6. He’s feisty. He’s got a temper, likes to get his own way, and doesn’t take kindly to being scolded. He’s not cowed by our voices raised in anger, but yells right back. However, he’s also easily appeased.

at Grand Bend

7. He seems to have a strong affinity for music. He loves to dance, to sing, to play musical instruments. Where Tristan loves Thomas the Tank and Scooby Doo, Simon prefers the Wiggles and the Doodlebops.

Simon

What, that’s it? I’ve got seven already? But, I’m not done yet! I didn’t get a chance to tell you about his unruly curls, how he crawls into bed with me in the morning almost every day, how he still says “lellow” instead of “yellow” and I secretly kind of prefer it, and how he sometimes calls me “Mama doo doo” for reasons that baffle me, and… and…

Simon the caterpillar

Simon and the Incredibles

I’ve posted before about how Tristan’s increasing facility with the computer never fails to amaze me. Now, of course, Simon is hot on his heels.

Beloved has just set him up with his favourite Incredibles game, and he is clicking contentedly when suddenly he complains, “Mom! The game shut down!” This is a problem with our Cars game. It’s incompatible with our video card and tends to shut down randomly. We haven’t had the same problem with the Incredibles, though.

“What were you doing when it shut down?” troubleshoots Beloved.

“I clicked on exit and it shut down!” Simon replies indignantly.

Apparently there are nuances to the language that one has to acquire, at the tender age of three, before being completely successful with technology. The meaning of ‘exit’, for starters.

SImon’s birthday party

Have you been breathlessly waiting for the update from Simon’s birthday party yesterday? I know, you haven’t been able to sleep for the suspense. Well, I’m thrilled to be able to report that despite the words you never want to hear your husband say when you have more than a dozen friends and family in the house (“Don’t worry, it’s only a small fire in the oven”), the party was nearly perfect.

I had set my goal for the day at a rather lofty “I’ll be happy as long as nobody cries”, and managed to not only pull that off, but I think everyone had a great time while they were at it.

We managed to play one game, but the kids were content to raid the snack table and play at their own pace.

Simon had a lot of helpers when opening his gifts, and he was surprisingly tolerant of them!


If you want to make a three-year-old really happy, I suggest a drum, a doctor kit, a dollhouse, a pirate ship, a handful of books, a floor puzzle, and some new clothes. (Okay, so mommy probably appreciated the clothes more than he did on the spot – but he’ll be happy when I discard the flood pants that are grazing his shinbone instead of his ankle!)

And Papa Lou makes a very patient patient!


All in all, it was a wonderful way to spend a Saturday morning, watching the happy children that make up our extended family romp through the house while the adults relaxed nearby. They’re the people I love most in the world, and having them all in the same place was more than enough to make it a perfect morning; the rest was just the icing on the cake… the brightly coloured Wiggles cake, of course.

A love letter to Simon

My darling Simon,

You are three years old today. Three years old… no longer a baby, but not quite done being a toddler yet. You are still my baby, and your babyness shows in your fat baby feet with their pudgy baby toes, and in the way you still have a traces of the bowlegged toddler waddle when you walk, and in the way you wrap your body around mine when I pick you up. Your skin, too, is the flawlessly soft skin of a baby, fresh and dewy.

But every day, another remnant of your babyness disappears. You speak in full sentences, and it’s only occasionally that we don’t quite catch the waterfall of words and ideas spilling constantly forth from you. We had a little confusion with ‘shovel’ and ‘trouble’ yesterday, for example. Most of the time, when we don’t understand your words it’s because you’re busy thinking your own thoughts and you surprise us with your out-of-the-blue observations and opinions.

You are charming, my son, and you love to work that charm. You flirt shamelessly, and yesterday you kissed the back of my hand when trying to convince me to do something for you. Of course, I acquiesced; how could I resist? You are free with your kisses and hugs and declarations of love, and you have a way of meeting my eyes just before you tell me you love me that makes me think you realize exactly what you are saying and what it means to me. I fear for the hearts of a generation of girls who will look into those deep brown eyes, crinkled with laughter, and be lost forever!

You are a happy little boy. You are almost always cheerful, content, and easy to get along with – unless you are hungry or tired. Much like your mother, when you are hungry or tired, you are – well, I was going to say you are a little bit cranky, but ‘an angry tyrant’ might be a little closer to the truth. But once those basic needs are met, you are a pleasure to be with.

I have to admit, you seem to be the more mischevious of my two sons. You find small ways to get into trouble every day that would have never occured to your brother. You like mess, and you like chaos, and you love to play with water. Personally, I’m not so fond of those things. It was you who dunked the blanket in the toilet, and you who coloured on the fridge and microwave with magic marker, and you who found Papa Lou’s scissors and started practicing your cutting skills, luckily with a scrap of paper. I think you’re getting used to hearing your name said with an exhalation of frustration: “Si-mon!” as your daddy or I follow in the wake of your mischief, our eyes rolling as we try not to laugh – or yell! And yet, you are so lovable that you are forgiven for your transgressions, and we learn to live with a little bit more chaos and clutter in our lives.

You love music and you love to dance. You are going through a drum phase right now, and we can’t help but laugh at your energetic “dum dum dum”ing as you drum on an imaginary drum. Last week, Papa Lou dug out some of his old drumsticks and turned over a bowl to use as a makeshift drum, and you were not only patient of his teaching but showed an impressive aptitude for rhythm that must have made Papa Lou feel better after the abysmal lack of rhythm that I’ve always displayed.

You are so very clever, and you have no idea that because Tristan is two years older than you, there are things that he can do that perhaps you cannot. You’ve recently learned from him how to work the remote control for the DVD player, and you display your prowess with the remote by watching at most three minutes of every feature on your many DVDs, flicking with abandon through the various menus for special features, advanced settings and scene selection. Who knew I would pine for the days when we simply sat down and watched an entire 30 minute DVD from start to finish? You still love the Wiggles, but you also love Scooby Doo and Garfield and Spot, and you have been indoctrinated by your father’s love for old Superfriends cartoons and your mother’s love for old skool Sesame Street.

I can’t think of a day in recent memory that hasn’t begun with you creeping quietly into my room before dawn to crawl under the covers and cuddle into me. For such a small person, you take up a lot of bed space, often sleeping with your arms thrown wide to either side, or sleeping sideways across the bed with the top of your head pressing into my back. You also like to sleep with your hand twisted through my hair, and as you sleep you twitch the hair at the back of my neck, keeping me just awake to be aware of you but not awake enough to move out of your reach.

You are so unfailingly sweet, and can be surprisingly well-mannered for a three year old. This morning when I picked you up and told you it was your birthday, you said, “Oh, thank you, Mommy!” in your most gentle voice. And when I sang a quiet and private “Happy Birthday To Simon”, you beamed and blushed and said “thank you” again.

Tonight, we will celebrate your birthday with Granny and Papa Lou by having your favourite food – guacamole and cheese roll-ups, and I won’t even try to hide any extra vegetables in it in honour of your birthday – and cupcakes with candles for dessert. We’ll celebrate again on Saturday with the whole family – even your cousins from out of town.

So let me end this by saying for all the world to see how much I love you, Simon, and how much you make every single day a joy with your quirky sense of humour, your endless affection, and your boundless energy. Happy birthday, my sweet Simon!

A sad excuse for a post

Simon doesn’t get sick too often, but he seems to be making up for lost time this week. He has a horrible, snotty head cold, a fever AND he’s barfing. Sheesh, I’m *so* very glad we got our flu shots last weekend. (insert eyeball roll here)

He’s also so incredibly grumpy and needy that I can’t even tear myself away for 10 minutes to write up a blog post. Hopefully more later… or maybe I’ll just see you tomorrow.

Bed switching

It’s been a little more than a week since we switched Simon from his crib to a bed. He’ll be three in six weeks and he weighs somewhere around 40 lbs, so I’m thinking it was about time.

You might have noticed it’s not so much a bed as a mattress on the floor. We’re working on that. The bed frame has been ordered (no bunk beds for now) but in the interim, he’s thrilled just to be in a close facsimilie of a ‘big boy’ bed. And the bedding isn’t even a close match to Tristan’s because when I bought it on sale seven months ago, it was supposed to go in the purple and yellow room next door.

By the time we finally got around to boosting Simon from his crib, there was no longer any need for the boys to share a room, but we had done such a fine job of selling the idea of room sharing that we couldn’t have convinced them otherwise.

They’ve been surprisingly good. One night, Granny came over to babysit and there was giggling and shenanigans until well after she left after 9 pm. Other than that, though, they’ve both been great about settling in and actually going to sleep.

Even more surprising, Simon is actually staying in his bed. Those of you who have known me for a while will remember Tristan’s nighttime wanderings when we liberated him from his crib at the tender age of 21 months. He was so incorrigible in his midnight-to-three a.m. wandering and I was so sleep deprived and exhausted (still working full-time, eight months pregnant, in December) that one night I checked that the gate to the stairs was in place and locked my bedroom door to keep him out. The next morning, I woke up to find him curled up fast asleep against the door. It was one of my worst bad-mommy moments and I can still taste the bitter guilt three years later.

That’s why I’ve been nothing short of astonished (relieved, but astonished) at how easily Simon has made the transition that I’ve been dreading for three years. The only hiccup came this past Saturday night, on the one-week anniversary of his liberation from baby-jail. On my way to bed, I checked in as usual to kiss both boys goodnight. Tristan was snoring lightly, and when I turned to look at Simon, the half-smile on my face faded in confusion.

Simon’s bed was empty, and we hadn’t heard a peep from him. I checked his crib, thinking maybe he had crawled back into it, but it was empty, too. I finally found him deeply asleep smack in the middle of my bed, duvet pulled comfortably up to his chin.

I laughed and laughed and laughed. I was laughing so hard I could barely call Beloved to come and see, and was still snickering when I finally crawled under the – still warm! – covers myself after putting Simon back in his own bed.

When I asked him the next morning why he had slept in my bed instead of his own, he answered logically, “Because I just did, Mummy.”

Tristan was my well-sleeping infant. We had to wake him up every three hours to feed him when he was a newborn. Simon, by contrast, didn’t sleep a full six hours straight until until well after I went back to work, sometime around 14 or 16 months. As toddlers, they have switched places and Tristan is restless through the night where Simon falls asleep in minutes and stays that way.

Funny how that happens.