Dear Nathan,
This Thursday, you turn twenty-nine months old. i cannot even begin to tell you what an amazing month this has been. There hasn’t been just one grand moment that has made this last month so special; it’s been more of a combination of perfect, inconsequential little things, tied together nicely with baker’s twine. The adage remains very true, about good things & small packages.

You’ve discovered your sister’s stash of bling & fantastic accessories. She is delighted with this, of course. Now she has a partner in crime, as you both embrace a lifestyle of flamboyant excess & wear Elton John sunglasses or the Mr. T collection of sparkling necklaces. You will ask to wear her headbands, rubber bands, nail polish & rainbow belts, but like any guy completely secure in his masculinity, you stuff your comb in the elastic waistband of your shorts.


You’ve picked up a few expressions this month that kinda have our blood boiling. By far the most annoying one is “bébé lala,” which is your response to everything when you don’t get your way. Sometimes, this is interchanged with “pow pow!” & a very hairy eyeball. i do not like your reactions, & i hate even more how angry & powerless they make me feel. Any reaction on my part won’t be the right reaction. If only you had picked up these idioms from us, it’d be far easier to handle. But these are expressions you borrowed from your friends at daycare, over which we have no control, & bottom-line, we kinda like being in control of how we raise you.

Guess who’s potty-trained? Butt. Kicked! You’ve been clean for more than a week now, & it has changed our LIVES. We’ve already gotten rid of the diaper pail, & i am real anxious to throw those changing mats away. True, we’re keeping the diapers around for your nap & bedtimes, but we’re taking it bird by bird.
We are still parents of a kid who jumps around everywhere, & this remains uncomfortably new to us. Your sister has always been a pretty low-energy child, & so our experience as parents has been markedly different this time around. Now you’ve learned how to hop on one foot. These are bragging rights, by the way. Most kids hop on one foot around age three. You know what this means, right? Upcoming silver trophy for Hopscotch Champion Of The World. We are already making room for it.

You know the names of your four fingers (& opposable thumb!). In English, this isn’t a big deal, the names are easy to pronounce & remember. But in FRENCH, this is a whole other story: “index, majeur, annulaire,” & your favourite, “au-rrrrri-culaire.” Too bad toes are anonymous.

So this twenty-month old Nathan, what’s his like or dislike list? You unequivocally hate: eggs, couscous, pooping on the toilet, cooked zucchini, wolves, white cranberry juice, Mike the Knight, & dried prunes. You are fond of: puzzles, cereals, your stuffed cat & dog, vanilla soy milk, Mike & Sully, colouring & music.
You told me your first joke the other day. You were playing with a magnetic puzzle on the fridge, & then you started humming, which turned to making farting sounds with your mouth.
You promptly stopped, did the farting sound again, & laughed.
“Quoi ?” i asked, grinning.
You giggled, & said, “Le casse-tête fait des pets !”
i’ve never laughed so hard or been more aware that there is nothing in life more wonderful than this, you, my youngest, my favourite son.

Love,
Mum