The Second Banana (and other recent experiences of parenting a four year old)

My schedule this AM allowed me to be the one to drop Booch at school. After we put his bag and coat on the hook, he turned to his schoolmates and said: "Sorry, everyone. I didn't bring my mommy with me to school today. I just brought my daddy. Sorry." One thing I learned long ago was to never let your self-esteem be governed by a preschooler.

After dinner, we sang some songs. (Current favorite: Louis Jordan's "Ain't Nobody Here But Us Chickens.") When he was done, he leaned back on me, looked up and wistfully said: "I really like to watch TV. I think I haven't watched enough TV today." Oops.

Our good sleeper is developing some bad habits. A few nights ago, he came crying into our room. We got him calmed down, but he reported that he was having bad dreams about "mean bad guys." (Hey, it was bound to happen eventually.) He's been in to wake us up every night since. We're not having any of it, but he's on the verge of getting in trouble now. Two nights in a row, the complaint was that his nose was stuffed up. Ok, valid enough. But then last night, without a good excuse to go with he came in at 2:00 AM with "I can't find my astronaut toy."

And, oh, with the chatterbox. He had a pretty significant speech delay. At two years, six months, we were practically dancing when he treated us to a few words. We would dream of the day when we could have a two-way conversation with our son. He's so charming and sweet, but now HE WILL NOT SHUT UP! I knew it was getting bad when I recently resorted to giving him little sugarless mints to suck on, just to give myself two minutes without the running monologue.

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