Nathan hadn’t been to a dentist yet. It was something on our to-do list, but for some reason, I thought that kids didn’t need to see a dentist for teeth cleaning until they were three. (They actually need to go at age two.) So I called my dentist, who by the way is AWESOME.

Side story: I’ve been having some tooth pain but I didn’t have a dentist and had no idea who to call. So I asked my mother-in-law who she sees because she has some sort of innate ability to pick amazing doctors. I haven’t had my teeth cleaning in years (I know, shame on me!) because my last dental visit was rather traumatic. I had to get my wisdom teeth pulled, and my dentist at the time (who I had been seeing for almost 20 years) was becoming cranky and rude in his old age. My teeth were impacted, so they had to be cut out. I swear, I could feel every single bit of it even though I had numbing shots. As I was screaming in agony with tears flowing down my face, my dentist told me that it was “impossible” to feel pain after having the shots.

I have not been to a dentist since then.

So anyway, I went to my mother-in-law’s dentist and was blown away by how friendly the staff was, how careful they were with my mouth, and how knowledgeable and helpful the dentist was. I am scheduled for a deep cleaning soon, a couple fillings, and to replace an old filling… and I’m not feeling all panicky and anxious about it because I know they will take care of me.

What’s really cool about them is how understanding and compassionate they were towards Nathan. I didn’t have a sitter that day, so I had to bring him with me. He freaked out. Totally. Complete with hysterical screaming and thrashing… and he wasn’t even the one seeing the dentist! They were so understanding, however. They gave him three race cars, a bouncy ball, and let him play with a set of display teeth. They cajoled him and spoke softly with him, and even sat with him and played while I was getting x-rays. They were super awesome and they now have me as a client for life!

So back to my story. Since Nathan didn’t have a dentist, I called mine to see if they accept children his age. They said that they do… but only as long as the child will allow them to look into his or her mouth. I may have chuckled a little. With Nathan flying into hysterics when I WAS THE ONE SEEING THE DENTIST, I knew there was no way he would allow anyone to look into his mouth. So they recommended I take him to a pediatric dentist.

When I called, I warned them that my three-year-old is incredibly strong-willed and would more than likely fight tooth-and-nail (gotta love the pun) when they try to check his mouth. She replied that they only deal with children and they are used to it, so it wouldn’t be a problem.

Awesome!

When we walked into the door of the pediatric dentist, there was no wailing. No frightened screeching. No flowing of tears. The waiting room was kid-friendly (of course), complete with tons of books, a few toys, and some paper hot-air balloons swaying gently from the ceiling. When we walked in, Nathan took one look around and said “Wow!” as he darted towards the bookshelf. He scampered about the room, alternating between playing with toys, pawing through the books on the bookshelf, and running up to the receptionist to tell her over-and-over again what his last name is.

When it was time for us to be called back, Nathan went willingly. We went through a brightly-painted hall, passing by a display of neatly arranged stuffed animals as we walked into the equally festive and colorful dental room. Nathan willingly stepped onto the scale when they asked and hopped up onto the cleaning bed with a smile on his face.

Getting him to lay down was another story. He knew something was up, and he didn’t like it. The dental hygienist explained to him what they were about to do. After much ado, we were able to coax him into laying down. He fought somewhat but she was able to check his teeth to see if they were ok to clean (since he’d never had a cleaning before.) Even though his front teeth were loose, he was good to go for a cleaning. She showed him the “spinning toothbrush” and even let him hold it. She let him pick out the flavor of his “toothpaste” (grape) and the  flavor of his fluoride treatment (strawberry.) But as soon as we tried to lay him down, the thrashing and screaming commenced full throttle.

Fortunately, they were able to work with him and we were able to get his teeth cleaned. And the good thing about a child screaming bloody murder during a cleaning is that their mouth is wide open, allowing great access! Lets just say that he fought so hard that he was completely covered in sweat by the time it was done. So much so that they had to wipe him down with tissues!

When it was finished, without any hesitation whatsoever, they whisked out three bins chalked full of toys onto the bed next to us and told Nathan to pick out what toys he would like. He picked out some cars and some stickers and proceeded to roll them happily around on the floor, even as his tears were still freshly glistening on his sweaty and flushed cheeks. But then Nathan wanted to roll his cars elsewhere, so two assistants escorted him out to the waiting room where they sat on the floor and played with him for THIRTY MINUTES while I spoke to the dentist about his tooth injuries.

Seriously, this dentist was super awesome and I was thankful and impressed that he took such a long time discussing it all with me.

Basically, Nathan had a 50/50 chance of loosing his two front teeth because his gums were so red and angry that either the teeth could die or their own or might have to be pulled for the good of the permanent teeth that are developing behind them right now. The dentist explained that it if the teeth survived, it would take about a month or longer for them to tighten up but in the meantime, Nathan could eat whatever he wanted as long as it was cut up into tiny bites. Absolutely no biting into anything with his front teeth, and no falling. He said just one more fall on those loose teeth and it would be over- the teeth would not survive.

So once we were finished, I walked back out to the waiting room and saw Nathan having a total blast with the assistants. They were all sitting on the floor, rolling cars back and forth. Nathan didn’t want to leave!! It was awesome how they took care of him and saw him as a person rather than a number. I felt like they really cared. I will definitely be using them for now on!

So as of today, it looks like Nathan’s teeth are going to survive. His gums have regained their healthy pink look and the swelling has disappeared. His teeth are still a little loose, but they are definitely tightening up. It looks like everything worked in his favor and he won’t lose his two front teeth, thank the Lord.

Did I mention that it’s stressful being a parent?

Me, Nathan, and Paul when we first got to Paul’s grandparents’ house for some delicious food followed by some egg-hunting… all following a beautiful Easter service at our church. Of course, it can sometimes be incredibly difficult to convince a three-year-old to sit still for a picture, but we were finally able to get a decent one in the midst of some squirming.

Nathan helping his great-grandmother dye some eggs. He totally loved it! At first, I was slightly trepidatious about Nathan being around food dye, but it worked out well… He was surprisingly calm and managed not to make a huge mess. And he thought that it was super neat to dye eggs multiple colors.

He was so excited about carrying around the basket full of eggs. I’m pretty sure he thought he was Big Stuff, and I must say that I wholeheartedly agree. And doesn’t he look totally dapper in his Easter outfit? Paul’s grandmother gave us the jacket, and she’s pretty sure it used to be Paul’s. So of course I had to put Nathan in it for Easter.

Nathan’s having a nice little chat with Daddy. My two most favorite men in the whole wide world, right here, both looking as handsome as ever, and both making my heart swell to approximately the size of a football field. I don’t even know how my heart hasn’t exploded out of my chest yet.

After the festivities, the little guy was pretty tired. He had a big day and really enjoyed going to church, gorging on a delicious Easter meal, dying eggs, hunting them, and then running wild and free outside.  Holidays are great around here, and I am super happy I get to spend them with my wonderful husband and child. I couldn’t ask for anything better!

It really sucks that I’m having such painful arthritis problems. I’m only 31. That’s a little depressing.

So anyway, he gave me a Cortisone shot in my shoulder and guess what? Now I’m experiencing a Cortisone Flare. The injection site is swollen and all the surrounding tissue is so sore that I can’t even touch it. I couldn’t take a shower last night because I literally could not move my right arm because of the pain each little movement caused in my shoulder/upper back. Just putting on my socks is agony. I can’t even think about lifting Nathan at this point. Fortunately, these symptoms should only last 24-48 hours, but until then, I have to rest my arm, take Ibuprofen, and ice the area. That means I can’t empty the trash, so my house stinks because the trash is full. Can’t vacuum, mop, clean, do dishes, do the litterboxes, etc. I hate, hate, hate not being able to take care of things around the house, which is probably what got me into this mess. Instead of resting my injury, I just pushed through the pain and kept doing the housework. I HATE getting behind on the housework because it takes forever to catch back up. Well, I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’m going to take it easy until my shoulder feels better. Not sure how I am going to deal with a messy house in the meantime… too bad Nathan’s not old enough to be handed some chores!

I know, I know. Woe am I, right?

Enough with my kvetching and self pity. In other news, my baby boy has turned THREE YEARS OLD! I can’t believe it! We had a party for him at a pizza place this last Saturday, and it was great. Just about the entire extended family was able to make it, along with a couple of my friends and their husbands and children. All in all, I think there was about 25 people or so in attendance. My dear friend of nearly 13 years baked a special cake just for Nathan. It was HEAVEN. In fact, I have been gorging on cake for the past few days, and if I gain any weight, I shall blame it entirely on my friend and not my temporary lack of self-control.

Here is a picture of that sugary deliciousness. It was a double-layer vanilla cake, and she made the checkerboard design with sheet icing.

And yes, I realize that I had placed Francesco (the green, red, and white car) on a collision course with Lightning McQueen. Francesco had been removed by little hands, and I wasn’t paying attention when I put him back on the track. Oh well. Nathan didn’t seem to care.

Singing happy birthday to Nathan! He totally loved everyone singing to him and was as proud as he could be that he was finally three years old.

Blowing out the candle with a little help from Daddy. It looks like Nathan was so focused on blowing the candle out that he could have face-planted into the cake.

Reading the card from his great grandparents (Paul’s grandparents). Believe it or not, Nathan really likes cards. Ever since his party, he’s been looking at his cards, carrying them around, and playing with them. I let him play with them until he starts to get too rough, then I put them away for safe keeping before he mauls them to death.

He loves opening presents. Although he seems to prefer unwrapping them, he also loves digging into gift bags and flinging the tissue in all directions. Look at his face- he was really concentrating!

He liked the wooden car my brother got him. And oh, see the hat he’s wearing? That’s his train conductor’s hat, a gift from Paul’s grandparents. Nathan LOVES it and has been wearing it constantly since he got it.

When he thought there were no more presents, he got a little upset. Hey, it’s not a party until someone cries, right?

Ahhhh sweet relief. There were more gifts after all.

This one was from Paul and me. Look at Nathan’s mouth hanging open as he examines it… he loves this toy. He loves ALL his toys. He got some super cool stuff… in fact, he made out like a bandit. He loves, loves, loves every single one of his gifts and has been playing with them all nonstop! Everyone picked out the perfect things for him… there was not a single present that he was disinterested in. In fact, when we got home from the party, we didn’t even bother trying to get him to nap. He was too pumped up about all his new toys. The first thing he does when he gets up in the mornings is break out the new stuff. Which is really, really cool.

See, Paul and I don’t buy him a whole lot of toys throughout the year. Don’t get me wrong, we DO buy him stuff, but he is not spoiled by any stretch of the imagination. So whenever he gets gifts, it just makes his day/week/month. Now I just need to find the time to go through his room and pack away the toys he’s outgrown.

Wow… I still cannot believe I’m the mother of a three year old.

And oh. I can’t even tell you how many times we’ve heard him darting around in the darkness, digging through his toys… and when he hears us walking to his room, he’ll race back to bed, lay down, and pretend like he’s done nothing wrong. Complete with sweet smiles and soft “I love you Mommy and Daddy” phrases as we open the door. But upon closer inspection, we can always find a stash of toys hidden under the blankets and stuffed animals, exposing his mischief every time.

The only thing we can think to do at this point when we hear his footsteps exuberantly pounding around the room is go in there and tell him to get back in bed because it’s night time. No yelling. No frustration. No discipline. No negativity. Why? Because none of it worked, and you can’t keep doing what doesn’t work because it will drive you insane.

I’m hoping the repetitiveness of simply but continuously and firmly putting him back in bed every time he gets up will eventually sink into that hard little head of his. He’s seemingly more apt to do what we say when we don’t show negative emotions. Keep your fingers crossed.

But still. He won’t stop getting out of bed. And he’s making himself stay up later and later… last night, for example, he stayed awake until 1:00am. And then got up at 8:00am, which is late for him. He must me a night owl like his mommy. Only I don’t joyfully bounce out of bed in the mornings like he does…

We also converted the crib to a toddler bed. Up until this point, before he started climbing out of his crib, we left it as is. The older he got, the less we worried about him falling and getting hurt. BUT, once he started climbing out, we decided it was time to take the rail down. Once we started the process of converting it, however, we realized a vital piece of the railing for the toddler bed was missing. (This, sadly, was no surprise. When we first got the crib when Nathan was born, it arrived at our house missing and ENTIRE CRIB SIDE. Made in China… go figure.) So we couldn’t attach the safety rail since a vital component wasn’t included. Because of that, the first few nights Nathan rolled out of bed a number of times. Once he sustained a nasty abrasion on his forehead from falling out. So I took some great advice my mother-in-law gave me; I rolled up a long blanket and stuffed it under his sheet on the edge of the bed. It makes a nice round lump, which helps keep him from falling out. Works like a charm (for the most part, when he hasn’t flattened it out from constantly getting out of bed at night), so I’m not quite as irritated as I was about being unable to install the safety rail.

So we’re all pretty tired around here. No one is getting a lot of sleep at this point. I know that this, too, shall pass and that he won’t be this age forever. It’s a phase that we’ll get him through, just like we’ve gotten him through all the other phases he’s been through in his little life.

In the meantime, some good recuperative sleep sure would be nice…

He thinks I’m hilarious. I’m enjoying this ability to make him laugh while I can… when he becomes a sullen teenager, I’m sure he will no longer find my antics amusing.

When I walked into Nathan’s room yesterday morning, I saw he had stuffed his boots full of his hot wheels. It’s so much easier to transport them from room to room when you have something to carry them in…

There is something innately endearing about a child putting his or her shoes on the wrong feet.

Nathan is completely enamored with his fireman boots. They were a Christmas gift from my mom, and let me tell you, Nathan can’t get enough of them. The first thing he does in the morning, before he’s even out of his PJ’s, is put on his boots. He clomps around in them all day, just as proud as he can be. Never mind that half the time they’re on the wrong feet. That stuff just doesn’t matter when you’re two years old.

I love this age. Well. I LOVE the age, but dislike the phase he’s going through right now… we’re going for yet another round of NOT MINDING! It’s driving me completely bonkers. For example, we got into a bit of a power struggle today. There’s a local mommy group in my area that meets once or twice a month for lunch and play with our kids. There was one today, and before I even left the house, I had inhibitions about attending. Nathan was in one of his moods, and I could just feel that things probably wouldn’t go smoothly.

I made his lunch (which is pretty much mandatory whenever I take Nathan somewhere. He’s incredibly picky, and coupling that with an intense desire to run amuk with the other kids makes Nathan want to completely forgo his dinners.) So it’s just easier to bring his own lunch, and we rarely get into power struggles over it.

Not today, however.

I told him after he ate his lunch, he could get down and go play with the other kids. Well, Nathan would have none of my rules, dontcha know. He balked. Loudly. He wanted to completely skip his lunch and go play, but unfortunately Nathan without food is a very-hard-to-manage Nathan. So I tried to compromise and advised him to eat just half of what I packed. No success. I tried to bribe him with a cookie. Nope, still didn’t work. Applesauce? He took a few bites and then had enough. Then he tried to pick up his plate and move it away. Finally, I told him to open his mouth and I would feed it to him. COMPLIANCE! Never mind that my child is nearly three years old now and I had to hand-feed him his lunch. All I was worried about was getting food into that grumpy little belly while simultaneously sticking to my rule of eating before play.

But then he went kinda nutzo. He had no sugar (the cookies “mysteriously” disappeared into my own mouth), so I’m not sure where all the crazy energy came from. But he started running around the room, yelling and bouncing around while his wavy hair flapped crazily around his head. I watched in horror as he forcefully yanked toys away from other kids, stole their stickers and decorated his own torso with the loot, and danced around like a jumping bean that had been soaking in adrenaline for a number of days. I tried to reprimand him. When I saw him jerk toys away from other kids, I immediately went to him and gave the toy back to the other child, explaining to Nathan that he needs to share and be nice to others. I took the stickers off his torso and handed them back to the kids he stole them from.

But the ultimate embarrassment was when Nathan physically shoved another little guy down, causing him to cry. One of the volunteers approached me and told me what Nathan did, and I immediately whisked him away into a corner for timeout after I making him apologize to the other boy. I told the mother I was terribly sorry, but she was a bit of a bitch about it. Yeah, I know my child hurt her child, but guess what? It happens. That does NOT mean it’s ok, but it IS to be expected with two and three year olds. But she was absolutely bitchy about it. As I was apologizing for my son’s actions, she didn’t even acknowledge me. In fact, she turned away from me and ignored me as she held her crying son. I totally get that she was upset, but there was no need for her to be rude about it. So I just shook my head and left her alone.

That’s ok. Her child will shove another kid one day when he’s around Nathan’s age. Hopefully the parent of the child he hurts will be nicer to her than she was to me. After being shunned like that, though, I won’t be apologizing to her again if my child ever behaves inappropriately towards her child again. Nathan will apologize to the child he hurt, but I won’t go out of my way just for her to reciprocate with rudeness.

Yes, I’m a little pissed off at her arrogance.

But enough of that. Arrogant, bitchy people are everywhere in this world. I am quite sure I will encounter many, many more throughout my life.

So yeah, Nathan has his super sweet, precious and endearing moments… but this belligerent phase he’s going through right now is driving me insane. I’m hoping this phase doesn’t last long. I want him to be sweet again. Don’t get me wrong, he totally has a multitude of sweet moments. I’ve noticed he gets really wound up when we’re out in public, especially if there’s a lot of other kids around or bustling activities. I’m going to have to figure out a way to work on this…

In the meantime, I’m going to soak up every single sweet moment he has. I know his not-so-sweet moments are just a phase that he will outgrow with love and patience. I’ve had SO many people tell me the Terrible Two’s are nothing compared to the Terrifying Three’s. He’s almost three. I hope this behavior is not a taste of what I’m in for in the coming year!

Racing! I can’t help but smile every time I look at this picture. He’s just so adorable with his curly hair and legs that don’t reach the pedals. It won’t be long before he can play this for real without having to sit in his daddy’s lap. (Before I took the picture, he sat in Paul’s lap to race because Paul’s legs reach the pedals. When they were done, Nathan was content to sit in the seat and pretend like he was still racing.)

That’s right, Nathan is grounded from TV today for not minding.

He totally gets it, too. After breakfast, we normally let him watch an episode of Blue’s Clues, but not today. He asked for Blue, but I reminded him that he doesn’t get to watch any of his shows today due to continuously getting out of bed last night. “Okay, Mommy,” he said quietly without resisting. He knows what he did. He knows he’s supposed to stay in bed at night. And he understands that he now has to deal with the consequences. I know he doesn’t like it, but at least he’s accepting it.

In other news, Nathan and I still have that cough. Mine is getting a little better, but Nathan’s is still junky-sounding and deep. But on the bright side, I successfully taught him to cover his mouth with his elbow when he coughs. And he does! He’s pretty good at remembering to do it, even when he’s in the process of running or playing with his toys.

He’s losing his baby-ness and is becoming more and more like a little boy.

In fact, Paul’s mom told me about the last time Nathan was over at their house, he picked his nose, opened up a drawer, and promptly flung his booger into it. Can you believe that? That’s not something babies do, that’s for sure.

I have so many more similar antics to look forward to, don’t I?

Fortunately, he’s calmed down a lot over the past week or so.

We anticipated once that phase was over, he would probably start talking more. But we had no idea it would be like unleashing a dam! It happened so suddenly. I blinked and *POOF!* he started talking more and more like a big boy.

The other day, he found his missing cape. When I heard the triumphant sound of dancing feet, I peeked into his room and saw he had already put it on.

“I found my cape!” he exclaimed. I stared, speechless.

“What?” I asked, not really sure if I had really just heard him correctly use a sentence.

“I found my cape! I found it!” he said.

Wow. Just… wow. A couple of weeks ago, he would have said something like, “Look! Cape!” but this time, he used a whole sentence. And I was super impressed that he used his pronouns correctly. Just like a big boy! And now that he’s transitioning past this epic Misbehaving Phase, he’s becoming so dang sweet. He wraps his little arms around my neck and says, “I love you so much, Mommy” as he plants little kisses on my cheeks.

My favorite sentence he’s said this far was when he was sitting on his potty, reading a book as he tried to go. He opened one of his favorite books, The Little Engine That Could, ran his hands up and down the front page, and said, “I love books soooooooooooo much.”

Another new development… He’s minding me better when I explain things to him.

For example, my mom, Nathan, and I went to eat at Red Lobster the other day. Nathan was sitting beside me in the booth, and he repeatedly attempted to slide under the table, stand in the booth, talk to the people behind us, etc. I finally had enough, and I plopped him back down beside me and told him that was enough. He needed to sit still and stop trying to slide under the table. He did NOT like that one bit, and he threw a hideous temper tantrum which involved banshee-like shrieking and ripping out one of my earrings and hurling it onto the table. I picked his angry butt up out of the booth and marched him outside for a time out and a harsh scolding. After he completed his timeout, I told him his behavior was unacceptable and that if he chooses to continue to behave like a brat, I would take away his books. I told him when we went back inside, I expected him to mind like a big boy and not throw any more tantrums.

Well, he did pretty good when we went back in to finish our lunch.

But then when it was time to leave, he spied the lobster tank they keep out in the lobby.

Uh oh.

He ran towards the tank and stood inches from the glass. “Hi, fish!” he said, waving his hand. “Lots of fish in the fishtank,” he mused as he stood there, watching intently. I dreaded telling him it was time to go. We needed to leave, but when I tried to steer Nathan away from the tank, he resisted. A could feel a tantrum brewing. But I had a plan.

“Nathan,” I said. “We need to leave. If you’re good and don’t throw a temper tantrum, then I will let you look at the lobsters next time we come back. But, if you’re NOT good and you decide to throw a tantrum, then no more lobsters. I will NOT let you look at them the next time we come back. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s go then.”

“Okay.”

Okay? Really? And then he turned around, grabbed my hand, and walked out of the restaurant like a big boy. It’s the little things like this that make me feel like I am doing something right.