33 Months / by Christina Rosalie

33 months old, and he says, “Mama, do you think Kiwi birds eat kiwis?” and then giggles.

When I say, “You’re my little guy” he says, “No I’m not, I’m you’re bunny, and I’m a little bit big.”

When I skip a page in a story, or skim past a few lines to speed the process up he says, “No mama, you skipped a page.” And then he’ll go back and tell me verbatim the words I didn’t read.

He is obsessed with forts. The kind with quilts on the couch are best. Boxes also have his affection. And he loves his little back pack and fills it full of treasures. “I have a wallet, mama,” tells me. “With credit cards. I can buy food and toys.” He collects pennies and keeps them in a jar in his nightstand drawer.

He loves his new snow boots, but hates nearly every winter hat we have for him. He fights us about putting on his jacket every time. “I will wear a jacket tomorrow,” he says, with the hopes of avoiding wearing one today. He also tries this with nap time. “I already napped today,” he says, head tilted, eyes twinkling.” It is 10:30 in the morning. “I will nap tomorrow again. I do not need a nap today.” Yeah right buddy.

“I want to do it by myself,” he says about unzipping his pajamas, or taking off his shirt.

“I love you and I missed you,” he says every day when I get home and we crawl onto the couch to snuggle.

He patters into our room in the middle of the night, and in the morning his arm is wrapped around my neck. “Snuggle me, mama,” he whispers in the early morning light.

He loves to paint, and just this month he started drawing his first recognizable images: a bunny, a person, a digger. He loves his Etch-a-Sketch, and makes elaborate “castles” with stair-stepping patterns. He’ll work on it for a half an hour at a time, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

When we’re outdoors he stops and cocks his head, “Do you hear that chickadee, mama?” he’ll ask.

When the first snow of the season was falling when he woke, he climbed up onto the windowsill and watched it, eyes wide and joyous. “Snow is falling everywhere, mama,” he cried. “It’s on the trees and on the roof and on the grass.”

I am completely smitten. My kid is the coolest kid in the world.