The kid turned 3 1/4 and became a holy terror – OK not maybe not a holy terror, but, an every-three-weeks-for-a-few-days-complete-pain-in-our-asses. We’re pretty sure that it is in relation to his normal brain/body development, or maybe it was because I was cavorting with the devil right around the time he was conceived. Either way, we are stuck with him for better or for worse I suppose.

But, the mood swings? Are you serious with that, dude? I’m pretty sure that the toy that you dropped on to the floor of the car is NOT “lost forever and ever — waaaa waaaaa waaaaa — I’ll never get it again!”… and the fact that I poured the honey into your yogurt in the kitchen and not right in front of you at the table, does NOT make it inedible… and I’m pretty sure that you should be saving the “I HATE YOU, YOU STUPID!” comments for when your dad and I embarrass you in front of your first girlfriend, rather than wasting all of them because I want you to put socks on.

But, then he will, completely out of the blue, look at one of us deep into our eyes, grab our hand and say, I love you more than anything. And all of the terrible is washed away.

Listening: Summer Camp

Me: “What did you see?”

H: “I saw a star…” motions with his hand, “flying slowly across the sky…”

Me: “Yeah buddy — that’s a shooting star!” (he has never seen one before)

H: “…It was my grandpa… it was my grandpa sending me a kiss.”

…

Again, I find myself with no words.

Listening: Lower Dens

While at my parents’ house last week he received what is basically a dollhouse for boys – a Bat Cave with Batman, Robin and a motorcycle. It is pretty awesome. However, Robin (aka “my best friend”, aka “sidekick”) went missing quite a lot and it was very distressing.

Harrison: “Mom, I need help finding Robin!”

Me: “Buddy, you really need to be more careful with your toys and remember where you put them. You have to be responsible for them and find them yourself.”

Harrison: “But, I CAN’T find him!”

Me: “Did you look hard enough?”

Harrison: ”I wooked!”

Harrison: “I weawy weawy weawy wooked!”

Harrison: “I wooked and wooked and wooked!”

Harrison: “I weawy weawy weawy WEAWY wooked!”

I’m not kidding the “weawies” and “wooks” went on for a long long while and about killed me. It was so freaking adorable and from the way he kept repeating it I think he enjoyed the way it all just wolled off the tongue.

Listening: Foster The People

Here’s the conversation we had the other night at grandma and grandpa’s house.

Harrison: “Mommy when I grow up I will be your husband.”

Me: “I’m sorry buddy, I already have a husband, it’s daddy. but, when you grow up you can marry another girl and she will be lovely and sweet and beautiful and…”

Harrison: “NO!” …lifts up his shirt in a panic and exclaims… “TAKE THE FOOD OUT OF MY BELLY! …I DON’T WANT TO GROW UP!”

If his dream were to come true that would mean that I would be insane blessed enough to get pregnant TWO more times or be burdened blessed with twins. Let’s hope he doesn’t have any crazy magical psychic powers.

And while time passes and Harrison gets increasingly awesome and I forget about how annoying babies are, I have to say… I’m coming around to the idea of doing it again. But, I’m on a good-healthy streak with my knee and finding my stride in derby. The season is half over and I can’t imagine NOT doing this. So, as long as my ol’ body can keep up with my desire to skate around in circles and hit other women, that fictitious baby will have to wait. Also – I did the math – I figure I can get at least 2 more years in with this crazy sport and still have another little bean before I’m 40. Unless I counted wrong… which is entirely possible. I fell pretty hard on Monday and could have jostled around some of my brain parts.

Listening: Middle Brother

Me: “Yes… And what else.”

“One day Gregor* was walking down the street and a bad robot …(pause for dramatic effect)… A good guy came and fought the bad guy with his hands. And then he poured yogurt on him …(huge smile)… Then he poured milk on him …(pause)… On his eyes …(over-acted laughter)… On the ceiling. And on the wall …(giggles)… Then he squirted him with goo …(pause)… THEN the good guy captured the bad guy… And trapped him. HA HA HA HAAAAAA.” (typical bad guy laugh that he uses to punctuate most stories he tells)

Listening: Arcade Fire

* Harrison’s imaginary friend, Gregor, is still very much with us. Although, he is often at his house, on a trip or captured by bad guys, so, we have yet to see him. He gained another imaginary fried, Chuck for one day, but, then Chuck went away – no explanation – he just “went away”.

With hands on hips and his serious face Harrison replies, “I’m just here to help.”

Listening: Those Darlins

Me: “Yes, what a polite way of asking! Of course you can!”

Harrison: “I’m going to do it slowly because when you do it fastly you poke my gums.”

—

While this sounds like the picture of mature-communication – the truth is these exchanges are more often than not followed by outbursts of screaming-tears because: “No, I want MILK. NO! In a regular cup! No – juice! I waaaaaant COFFEE!” This beverage discussion actually happened this morning… all in one sob-filled breath.

Listening: The Carper Family

Me: “Me? How nice.”

Harrison: “You AND Princess Fiona.”

…

Harrison: “Which one is the bad guy?”

Me: “There are no bad guys. It’s a beautiful royal wedding. It’s a happy day.”

… disappointed silence …

Me: “Actually, no, there IS a bad guy…”

Me: “Her hat is the bad guy.”

Harrison: “Hey you bad guy! I’ll getchoo.”

“I never wanna go ta Jaaaaay-aaaall. I never wanna go ta Jaaaaay-aaaall. I never wanna go ta Jaaaaay-aaaall. I never wanna go ta Jaaaaay-aaaall. I never wanna go ta Jaaaaay-aaaall.”

translation: I never want to go to jail

While I agree with the sentiment of the song, I do think the material may be a little age-inappropriate for a not-yet 3 year-old. Here’s a video of the song, although when he knows he’s being listened to or filmed he is much less enthusiastic.