"Almost 3" is a hilarious age.
Here are some of the things Greyson's doing lately to keep us laughing around here...
...naptime and nighttime, he insists on us singing 'Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer' before he goes to sleep. It infuriates him to no other when you change the words slightly, calling him 'Rudy' or changing 'reindeer' to 'camel'. We, of course, can't help ourselves because it gets such a rise out of him.
...he doesn't understand that you are who you are and that won't change. He frequently refers to when he gets older as "When I'm Hayes..." and looks back on the baby days, "When I was Henley...".
...he insists on saying goodbye to me every morning at school by forcefully slamming the gate shut behind me, which seems a little aggressive, but if it means no tears, I'm not complaining!
...he "hates" (new favorite word) giving me kisses on the mouth but will humor me every once in awhile, taking his whole arm to wipe his mouth in a dramatic fashion afterwards to show how disgusting it is. He likes to give kisses on the cheek and thinks it's hilarious when I move my head at the last minute to plant one on the lips.
...when he gets angry, he literally growls. He'll stop and say, "Grrrr..." before explaining what displeases him.
...he is the most determined little swimmer you ever did see and his chief motivation to learn is the knowledge that Hayes can do it and he can't. He's basically swimming on his own now and takes his lessons with Coach Mike very seriously, not wasting a single moment of learning time.
...we think he might be a genius. The other night, Hayes was doing his homework and wrote the number '5' incorrectly. Before I could even say anything, Greyson pops over Hayes' shoulder and quips, "That's not a 5. That's a 2!". (?!?!)
...we also think he might know how to speak Spanish. This morning, a new cleaning lady (whom Greyson called 'the cleaner') started with us and she speaks zero English. Her and I were trying to communicate and she made a joke in Spanish about little grubby hands on the windows, to which Greyson let out the deepest belly laugh you ever did hear, very obviously amused at this silly woman and her observations.
...he only eats plain bagels and prefers all of his food frozen.
...because of the aforementioned diet, he sometimes has a hard time poo'ing. He'll insist we put a diaper on him (he's potty trained in all other aspects of life) and he'll crouch behind the same chair in the living room to do his business. The saddest thing ever is listening to his commentary as he remarks, "oh my gosh, it hurts. Please poo, let me be!" We started a Miralax regimen and are hoping that helps his situation.
...I could listen to his adorable little voice all day long...