thanks for saving christmas

Oh, Ethan. We have had a rough couple of days. Not with one another, but with everyone else on the planet, it seems. When you're upset or scared, you do this thing where you crinkle up your face in the most forced fake smile ever. Sometimes your bottom lip quivers. Sometimes you do a thumbs up while sputtering out the words "I'm okay." You've been doing this a lot lately. You have a lot of feelings and lately you're really into fleshing them all out and trying to understand them. Usually this doesn't go so well. Usually this results in a scrunched up, fake smile and "I'm okay" that says you are anything but.

I do that thing that moms do where we stay up all night worrying about something and nothing and everything all at once and then you do that thing that kids do where you wake up and everything is fine. A new day is truly a new slate for you and that's awesome. This morning you called for me as you stumbled out of bed. You needed help to get onto your potty. In your sleepdrunk state you muttered "thanks for saving Christmas, mommy" as your good morning greeting of choice.

You are dreaming of Christmas and Santa Claus and wondering what you will feed the reindeer and pointing out things like the fact we don't have a chimney or that it doesn't snow in Florida. Our Halloween decorations are still up and this frustrates you. I mean, it frustrates me, too, because we're that house on the block. But it frustrates you because you pretty much think it's my fault that Christmas isn't here yet. So long as there are spiderwebs on our front trees, Christmas isn't cleared to begin. You think really cool things so I let you lecture me. I mean, you're sort of right. There's really no reason our Halloween decorations are still up.

I heard three was the hardest age yet. I get it, I do. You are blossoming into you right now and it's trying and worrisome and stressful. Still, I am loving you at this age. I am loving you as my companion. I am loving spending every minute of every day with you. I love our conversations and I try to take them all in because I know one day you will be thirteen and refuse to speak to me anymore. Right now you still think I'm pretty great and I can fix any problem you're presented with. No pressure or anything.

The other day I asked you what we should ask Santa for and you said you don't need anything because you already have me. Today you rode your ride-on toy back and forth over some cheddar bunnies until they were ground up into the grout.

You are my favorite adventure.