Tuesday, November 5, 2013

The Ladies Man

Curtis has been a bit under the weather.  The only reason this is apparent is because his energy level drops, and he is a bit quicker to cry.  Otherwise, you would be none the wiser.  Last night, I called him into the kitchen to give him his medicine.  After gulping down that yummy, pink amoxicillin, he exclaimed, "I feel happy now!"  (To which Matt and I laughed and immediately began quoting Monty Python.  "I'm not dead yet. I feel fine.") The thing is, he really did.  His mood was instantly better.  That is Curtis for ya.  Always has been.  Back when he was a newborn, I wondered whether his happy little demeanor would change.  Now, at a solid three years old, I can say it hasn't.  I hope it won't.  I don't want the obstacles, people, emotions, experiences of life to knock any of that exuberant light out of him.  I want him to continue to make people smile by his mere presence.

We have begun calling him "The Ladies Man" for a few reasons, not the least of which being that he only says "Hi, what's your name" with the biggest, cheesy smile to attractive, young women while on walks.  Conveniently ignoring the elderly and any male persons.  This method of his works!!  If you ask any of my friends or family, the 20 and early 30 something females all choose Curtis as their favorite!  At age three, he got game.  He also will blindly join in any game, bramble, tickling match or situation where people are laughing.  He will attempt to smooth over any situation where someone is crying.  While jumping on a trampoline in the backyard of a good friend, two 3 year-old girls began fighting over a toy.  Curtis, without prompting, crawled over to these girls and offered his toy to the one without.  She instantly stopped crying, even smiled and eeked out a timid, "thank you".  Curtis turned to me, with his irresistible, huge grin, puffed out his chest and said, "I made her happy, mommy!" I would say that I am insanely jealous of his future spouse...but then I remember that in addition to referring to him as 'The Ladies Man', we also call him our 'Dirty child', envision Pig Pen from Snoopy.  Yup, that's our Curty boy.  So, nevermind about all that; hire a weekly cleaning lady, that's my advice.
None of this is to say that Curtis is void of the normal 3-year-old behaviors.  He insists on being independent in everything, despite being unable to complete most of these tasks.  He wants to pour his own milk, put on his shoes, carry his plate, cut his food, ride any and every bike, walk across the street, climb all playground equipment, you name it; ALONE.  Failure to do so, results in a little tantrum.  Ok, by little tantrum, I mean a full blown tantrum.  Often in front of the mirror, watching himself to make sure the tears look real and convincing, the frown exaggerated enough and the eyes pleading enough to get the point across.  I just laugh, and make fun of him.  Again, even in his frustrating, unwarranted, ridiculous anger, he makes me smile.

Curtis speaks with a little lisp.  I think it's still cute, and I'm pretty sure it will go away on its own.  His hair is thin, course and all over the place.  Still at a loss as to what to do with it.  Size wise, he is just above average in both height and weight, fitting in quite nicely with his peers - which is how he's want it, I think. He has only just begun to attempt to pee and poop in the potty.  Have a ways to go on that end. He loves school.  The teachers love him - mostly because he doesn't cry and happily walks in to play, unlike a lot of his classmates. He will eat carrots, lettuce, bananas and applesauce.  Otherwise, it's meat and potatoes.  And by potatoes, I mean in the form of chips or fries. Oh, I almost forgot!  He ate 6 pieces of broccoli the other day, because Brock and I were having so much fun taking the "trees" through each of the seasons, like I did as a kid.

And though Curtis seems too busy concerning himself with others happiness to remember that he is now three, Brock being the thoughtful (controlling) older brother that he is, so kindly offered to remind him. Happy 3rd birthday to my second child.  My peacemaker.  My sweet boy.  My little ray of sunshine.  My Ladies Man.  My dirty child.  My Curtis.

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