happy birthday jake!

Three years old today. Sometimes I don't know how he is already three, sometimes I don't know how he is only three.

There is not much baby left in that little boy. Sometimes he pretends, all curled in my lap with his thumb in his mouth. He never sucked his thumb when he was a baby. He knows that, but he doesn't care. At least once a day he asks me about his babyhood, or tells me "when i was a baby i usedta...". Then he will tell me about when I was a baby and what I usedta do when his Mimi took care of me. The stories he tells about us when we were babies are exactly the same. He gets a kick out of the fact that everyone used to be a baby and we all used to be the same. When he talks about his Mimi to me, he calls her "your mom". I think that's wildly hilarious. "i'm gonna hang out with your mom". "i hafta talk to your mom, can you call mimi?"

He loves the fact that he will be big someday. He tells me that he will take care of me when he gets big and I get old because "that's the way the worldwerks". He loves to tell me all about how the worldwerks.

Jake has never been one to ask "why?" more than once or twice. When I get tired of making up/telling reasons why, I tell him that "it's just the way the world works" and he is okay with that. Then he tells me that the world spins around and makes day and night and seasons and time go by. Then he asks what time it is. Then he asks me if it is bed time and if he can just have "five more minutes".

I love bedtime. On so many levels. Bedtime means cuddles and deep thoughts and major questions and quiet. I love quiet. I love the way I love Jacob after he falls asleep.

Every now and then I ask Jake if he has any questions for me. I feel like it is good practice for ten years from now when he will. If he gets comfortable asking me questions now, maybe he will be then, too. Sometimes I ask Jake questions that make him a bit squirmy. I feel like it is good practice for me.
Jake always has questions for me. He says "why do's...". I want to correct him, but "why do's" is somewhat adorable. He wants to know things like why do's he likes some foods but not others, why do's he likes red so much, why do's we get big, why do's some animals be nice to people but others aren't.

Jake loves carrots and pizza, ham and broccoli, chicken and french fries, granola and "milkshakes". He craves beans & rice and nuts & raisins- he doesn't want them all the time but when he does, watch out. We had cupcakes for breakfast this morning, but he didn't even eat half of it. He turned down a bowl of ice cream last night. He isn't so much into the sweet stuff.

I blew up a couple dozen red balloons and put them all over his room in the middle of the night last night. Jake woke up around 1 to pee, and told me that "someone put some balloons in his room and it is sorta messy". He was happier about it this morning. There were presents at breakfast too. Candyland and Chutes and Ladders, a red umbrella, a red backpack, a 96er box of Crayolas. All wrapped in red. Red red red. Everything should be red. I'm assuming it is because McQueen is red. And McQueen is King. McQueen is God. McQueen McQueen McQueen.

McQueen McQueen McQueen. McQueen McQueen McQueen. McQueen McQueen McQueen. McQueen McQueen McQueen.

McQueen McQueen.

McQueen.

Ka chow.

I let Jake take his tricycle outdoors for the first time the other day. He loved it. He didn't use his pedals. He held my hand almost the whole way around the block "to be safe". Jake loves to be safe. He wants me with him all the time, "to keep him safe". He thinks a glass of water by his bed keeps him safe. He thinks that he can't keep Bear and Bluebunny safe at night unless his "door is open just a little tiny bit". He freaks about his carseat buckle. Won't ride his new bigboybike without a helmet (which he doesn't have, but will soon). Is very very careful to the point of annoying on the stairs. Jake is the Ralph Nader of toddlerdom. Maybe he will pick up the platform someday.

Have you ever heard Jake sing? I swear he knows every word to every song he's ever heard. I love watching him sing more than anything. His mouth is so exaggerated when he enunciates every syllable of every word.

Jake can write the letter J. Sometimes he can do an A. He can usually make a C. O is easy. B is impossible.

Don't call Jake, Jake. Unless you have special privileges with him or he isn't really paying attention. He prefers Jacob. I prefer Jake. I call him Jacob most of the time. Jacob is a weird word. It's weird to say and it's weird to look at. I like to look at it and think about what it would sound like with a short a and a soft c and a long o. What people who don't speak English might see. zzhacksewbah. Weird.

Jake is weird. Okay, he is different. He is. He is different from the other kids and I'm proud of that and I'm scared of that. Every mommy thinks their baby is supersmart and freaking spectacular. Mine is. I don't know what to do about it. I need a real adult to come in my house and tell me what to do. He remembers everything. It's creepy. He knows how to do things that I didn't know how to do until I was in grade school (snapping fingers, knowing about my innards, finding myself on a globe, weekdays, months, and seasons AND how they all happen, counting to 100, and such). He wants to learn how to count money and tell time, so I'll teach him.
He just gets things. We'll see where that gets him.

I'll ask him what he wants to be when he grows up tonight. He thinks everyone either builds things or "staples and stacks" when they go to work.

So, three. Wow. Everyone is still breathing three years into all this. There were some times there when I was a little short of breath, but I think I'm okay now. And Jake is doing great, and that's all that really matters at the end of the day.