Coming Up on Three...

Home Skillet turns three on Friday.  

I'm probably different from most moms when I say..

...It feels like way longer than 3 years.

Not exactly Mom of the Year stuff there, I realize.

Rhys is a big personality.  And the last year, specifically, has been challenging.  What with The Reckoning and all.  In some ways, Aubrey Kate sort of broke me in for him.  He's certainly strong-willed and he has a temper.

But, Praise The Father!  He is learning how to control his temper.  We've gone from hitting to grunting or crying and then he runs into his room.  So basically, he puts himself in timeout.

Rethinking that Mom of the Year thing aren't you?

Kidding.

That comes after much prayer and a whole lot of patience.  And if I have said, "Rhys, we only touch in love" once, I've said it 6,381,594 times.  

Chris is not thrilled with Rhys grunting at us when he gets corrected.  I'm not either.  But I see it as so much progress.  He'll learn to control the grunting too.  I'm confident of that.  He's already grown leaps and bounds in such a relatively short amount of time.

The other side of him is nothing but joyful and snugly.  Really.  Aubrey Kate was never and is still not a snugly kid.  She came home from the hospital wiggling out of our arms.  She was sleeping in her crib by herself at three days old.

Rhys came home refusing to sleep anywhere but in someone's arms.  Chris, Mom and I spent the first six weeks of his life sleeping on the couch surrounded by pillows propping up our arms holding Rhys. And that was just at night.  During the witching hour, Mom and I took turns bouncing him in our arms for two hours.  

I once walked over 10,000 steps IN MY OWN HOUSE just carrying Rhys around.

Good times.

He is still a snugly kid.  When temper tantrums come, a snuggle in my lap does more to calm him than anything else.  He needs that loving touch.  And every time he asks to sit in my lap, I drop what I'm doing.  Yes, yes, you can always sit in my lap.  

Today, he wrapped his arms around mine on the couch and laid his head on my arm.  I died of joy.  Nothing better than snuggles with my kiddos.

Lately, he's growing into a big boy just a little.  He fights my kisses some.  Wipes them off or tells me to stop.  Not sure if he's learning that from big sister (who does all of those and even offers to pay me all the money in her piggy bank if I agree to never kiss her again) or if he's really simply feeling less like a toddler and more like a big boy.  Probably a bit of both.  

(And don't worry.  I'm holding out for more money before I agree to never kiss AK again.  My disinterest isn't cheap.)

Three years in, I still completely believe Rhys will change the world.  He continues to be determined and focused.  He can absolutely do anything he decides to do.  For the most part, he can dress himself.  Sometimes, he gets the shirt twisted but other than that, he wants to "do it myself!"  And I let him.  Most days, his clothes don't match and he wants to wear them backwards.  Whatever.  AK beat any visions of darling dressed children in adorable matching outfits completely out of my head.  He's wearing clothes.  Sometimes they're clean.  Sometimes they're not.  But he picks them out, he puts them on, he's happy.  

Momma is down with that.

He can play on his own for thirty minutes or so at a time.  That's a big deal.  If he's in a mood to take direction, he can play with his sister for hours on end.  If he's interested in actually having an opinion about the play, they don't play well together at all.  Those are the days when he starts looking through drawers to find trinkets.  Cords, hair clips, utensils, doesn't really matter.  He can turn anything into a game.  Chris had to put his tools away because Skillet kept finding them around the house.  And he LOVED them.  But let's face it. He drops that hammer on his foot, not good.

The one area where Rhys is not a rockstar or really, improving, is his diet.  For the most part, he's surviving on a mixture of whole milk and chocolate milk.  It's about half and half.  I can generally get him to eat at least one full fruit a day.  Mostly a pear.  He loves those.  He will eat strawberries and grapes too.  Not much else though.  If it were up to him, he'd eat cheesy chips every meal.  He is a carb addict for sure.  Chips, popcorn, cereal, rice.  And bacon. Skillet can eat himself some bacon.  Four or five slices.  

I have to remind myself that he's just three.  He doesn't require near the calories we would expect.  And we decided long ago not to force our kids to eat.  The kids know if they chose to not eat what I prepare for the meal, there's nothing else.  You eat what I cook or you don't eat.  But we don't force.  We want them to enjoy food, recognize when they're full and never eliminate a food from their diet because they had to eat them as a kid.  

Like green beans.  I HATE green beans.  I learned how to swallow them whole as a kid.  That's how I learned to swallow pills.

Chris hates peas.  

(Sorry parents.  We love you regardless of our green bean and pea issues.  But we're not eating them.)

All that to say, I don't stress about Rhys' diet.  He'll eat when he's hungry.  And, clearly, he's not skipping too many calories a day.  

In all ways, every day, even the days when he was hitting or the days he says NO to me one too many times, we are crazy grateful for him.  He is an absolute miracle.  And he's gonna change the world.

God is all over his life.  It's gonna be a sight to behold.