Making memories

My earliest memory -- it's not even a complete memory, just little blips -- is from when I was about 3, on a train with my mom, going to see a ballet. Swan Lake, I think. Or possibly The Nutcracker. But I really think it was Swan Lake.

Tonight, along with their mother, I'm taking my 3yo granddaughter and 5yo grandson to the ballet... SWAN LAKE! I hope they will hold on to some memory of it... little blips would be just fine.


We were talking to them about it the other night, and Junah (a little worried?) declared:


On the cusp of three

Independence. Right now it's all about independence and doing things for himself -- taking great pride in accomplishments. Jun's been dressing himself, distinguishing front from back, getting all the fingers correctly placed in gloves, sometimes even doing the snaps and zippers on his pants.

But, oh... it can be so very frustrating.

He was wearing some cozy knit pants on Friday and there was some difficulty.

He tried putting them on. They were backwards. He got angry, cried, and completely shut down my offer to help.

He tried again. Um. They were backwards. Again. He got angry, cried, shut me down. Again.

Did I mention stubbornness?

After a few minutes of crying, he came over and sat on my lap... to get a hug and cry on my shoulder. When he felt better, he got up -- with confidence and purpose -- to try again.

And, ohhhh... it did not go well.

This time he came right over to sit and cry and just let it all out.

And then he tried ONE MORE TIME -- while I was able to quickly intervene and straighten them out (prep is everything!) -- and SUCCESS!

It was just the sweetest thing... how he wouldn't allow me to help him, but would allow me to give comfort.