All About Hobbes

My little Hobbsie is such a joy these days.  So happy, so silly.  He talks nonstop, and it's so funny to hear what he has to say.  He throws tantrums, but they are still at the stage of being pathetic, ridiculous and funny to watch, instead of frustrating and scary, like an older child's tantrum can be.  

 

He zips around on his little Strider Bike like a pro, with a huge smile on his face.  It makes him so happy.  (Thank you for that amazing toy/tool, CFG!  We all love it!)  

 

He has a baby doll.  In my closet one day, he found my old Strawberry Shortcake doll that my mom made for me when I was a kid.  It's crocheted, with a plastic head, arms and legs, with orange yard hair that sticks straight out all over her head.  He fell in love with her and is now "His Baby."  He sleeps with her, snuggles her, and even gives her the occasional kiss.

 

He has such a naturally sweet personality.  I was watching one of his 2-year-old friends (Eliza, or "Wiza" to Hobbes) the other day.  The kids were playing outside, and I was on the phone while I watched them.  Eliza decided that she was done with us and wanted to walk home, and she started walking down the sidewalk.  I decided to see how far she would go (within reason, of course) before retrieving her.  Hobbes thought that was unacceptable.  He went after her.

 

I am used to Gunner's approach to any situation like this, which is to run as fast as he can, then grab onto the other kid and PULL them back, always resulting in injury.  I braced myself for the inevitable crying.  Instead, I watched in amazement as he ran to her, hugged her, then put his arm behind her back and lead her back to our yard.

 

Sweet, sweet kid.  I love him so much.

 

He still mispronounces things:

Hayhert: Favorite (ie. That's my hayhert Daddy right dayer.)

Hun: Fun (So fun, the beach!)

Hunny: Funny (Daddy so Hunny!)

Hubbud: Heavy (Oh, that's so hubbud!)

Pinder: Finger (I got a owie.  Could I a bandang on my pinder?)

 

He makes up words when he doesn't know what something is called, like a reflex.  Here are some of my favorites:

Doom doom doom: A Playmobile Guy's Axe

Hedge Hog: Postum (like hot chocolate)

Water Pie: Apple Juice

Hmpp: Maple Syrup

Gungeegah: The treadmill and rowing machine

Aaaand I need to potty-train him.  I have been saying that for a month now, and I keep putting it off, mostly because I'm lazy.  For several months, I have been saying that I can't potty-train him because he is too much of a free-spirit to be trusted with that responsibility.  Now I put it off because having a newly-potty-trained 2-year-old is a lot of hard maintenance work.  And I'm tired.  And he is settled and sleeping well, and it's hard to want to stir things up.

When I trained Gunner, I got all prepared, and started him on a Monday so he would have all week long to get used to things before we had to do church with a potty-trained kid.  I have been planning that strategy for Hobbes, too.  But I need some supplies, some reward candy, water-proof bed liners, etc., and I keep finding myself at Saturday night without having done my supply shopping.  Soooo, I say to myself, "I can't start him out this week, I'll wait one more week."  

 

Also, the other day while I was watching Eliza, who is slightly younger than him and potty-trained, she had two accidents after lunch.  Two!  Such a pain to clean it all up.  And even Gunner still has the occasional issue, two years after being potty-trained.  It's just so much work and such a long learning process that I can't seem to bring myself to do it this time around.

On the other hand, I have become increasingly irritated that he is still pooping in his diapers.  He takes care of his business in one of two ways these days.  He will either excuse himself to go play quietly in another room and then return with stinky pants.  Or he will stand in the middle of the kitchen and push it out, while scolding me for looking at him while he does it.  And there I am, laughing at him for scolding me with his hard stares and little pointed finger, and thinking, "Gah!  That needs to go in the toilet!"

 

So, it's time.  Every kid's gotta learn to go in the toilet at some point, and I guess it's time for us.

Today, I let him wander around sans pants for a while, just to see what would happen.  Then I pulled out some small unders for him to wear.  "Oh," he said, "unders, just like Wiza and Gunner!"  He was so proud.  Then he proceeded to pee in the potty for the rest of the day.  He told me when he needed to go, asked for help, and even took himself to the potty twice.

I'm pretty much amazed.  He is obviously ready.  I'll be making that trip to the store to buy supplies tomorrow.

Let's do this thing.  My sweet little guy is ready to be a big kid.