The Third Trimester Meets the Terrible Twos

Many people would say that the optimal time to have another child is some where between your last child being two and three years old. Prior to getting pregnant, I certainly would have agreed with that idea, and to be honest I still do, but with a little more understanding of what exactly that entails. What I did not realize was that the reaching of my third trimester would coincide with the period of Noah's life which is commonly referred to as the "Terrible Twos". Now I am not sure that I would call them "terrible", but "crazy" would certainly do the trick. There are so many changes that occur in between your child turning two and your child turning three. There is the movement from the crib to the big-boy bed and let's not forget the dreaded potty training, but what has proven to be the most difficult of all is that Noah has seemed to recognize instinctually that there are changes a foot and has decided to exercise the new liberties that being a two year old apparently affords, namely exercising his own mind. For example, right now he is screaming at the top of his lungs in his room because he does not want to take a nap, something that has occurred three days in a row now, yet he will be tired and grouchy if I get him up. (Lord, please don't let him be moving away from naps..not yet). This time in his life is also characterized by these now infamous words, "I do it!" I can not just put him into the car seat, he says "I do it" and proceeds to climb into the car himself. Does he actually get into his seat? Not exactly. He decides to climb all over the car first. If I try to grab him and put him into the seat, he immediately thows his arms up to wiggle out of my grasp. By the way this is true for any situation in which I physically try to guide him to do something; i.e leading him through the rotations in gymnastics, running away from me at the park and let's not forget my personal favorite; refusing to get into the cart at a grocery store. Noah now knows how to open the locks in the house so I have to be constantly aware that he hasn't run outside to chase down some "big truck" he has heard go rumbling by. Tantrums have become more regular and thus the much more frequent use of the "naughty chair"; which, ironically enough, works better if I tell him to go sit in it, as opposed to carrying him to it myself, another form of "I do it" I suppose.


All of this craziness has collided with the affects of my third trimester. This has actually been a great pregnancy with the exception of the morning sickness earlier on and it wasn't until recently that I have started to get uncomfortable. I wake most mornings with every part of my body feeling as if it had been subject to some alien testing during the course of the night. Just drying my hair and making a little breakfast can leave me exhausted and short of breath like I have just been running sprints in my backyard. The braxton hicks contractions have started coming more frequently bringing that oh so comfortable feeling of someone tighten your midsection like you tightened the strings of a corset in the old days, causing my attractive waddle to become more pronounced. Add to this the lovely creaking and cracking sounds my body makes as I try to move into and out of various positions and the intermittent backpain and you have got the makings of some uncomfortable weeks on the horizon. At least I am in the last stretch.


This all may make me sound like I am not enjoying this or that I am completely overwhelmed, and to be honest, sometimes I am. But more often than not God reminds that this is truly precious time. After the birth of our second child, never again will it be just Noah and I at home together each day. I am thankful for his age, for his ability to give me hugs, to laugh with me, to dance with me, to play with me, to respond to the pages as I read him a book, to sing the Alphabet Song, to count to ten and attempt the teens, to say "Mamma" when he needs something, to ask to pray each night as he goes to bed. He is my precious boy, my buddy, my pal, my joy and I wouldn't trade this time for anything in the world.


Although there are all new adventures soon to be had, I know I will miss this, as sure as I will miss the new adventures when they have come and moved on into memory.

Ummmmmm

I just have to write this because it cracks me up. I love how Noah will ask for something specific to eat and then when I go to open the fridge or the cabinet, he will rush over and quickly say "ummmmmm", eyes frantically scanning the contents ... like just having that door open has given him endless possibilities to choose from.

Noah's Word Equivalents

Noah is talking more and more everyday, so now we are at that fun stage of communication development when we get to play "Guess that word." So here is my current running list of favorites:

-Beeble = Bible

-aknow one = another one

-pish = fish

-home = mom's car (have no idea how this happened, but just imagine how frustrating it is when everytime you say you are "going home" he thinks you are talking about the car.)

The Little Boy and His Big Twruck

"Big, BIG Twruck! Big, BIG, BIG Twruck!" is the sound we wake up to coming through Noah's monitor early every Thursday morning. Sure enough soon comes the sound of the garbage truck making it's weekly pick up. Noah loves trucks, or as he calls them, "twrucks".

Once, when the recycling pick up came late in the day, I let Noah follow the garbage truck around the block. When the driver saw Noah chasing him, he slowed down and waved. As the truck pulled away, Noah yelled, "BYE BIG TWRUCK!" HA' NICE DAY!"

Noah's favorite truck was given to him on Christmas this past year by his Grandpa Cowan. It is referred to only as "Big Twruck" and accompanies Noah on most outdoor adventures. Mostly Big Twruck is perfect for a little off-roading, racing and even riding. Of course what good would a truck be if it wasn't useful for hauling.

Emma, Jack! Yeah!

Noah's two best friends are nearly two year old Jack Jerrolds and his big sister Emma. Never a day goes by that Noah doesn't come up to momma and say, "Emma, Jack?" Every time we leave the house for whatever errand that we happen to be heading out for, if I turn to the left out of our development Noah gets agitated in his car seat and yells, "Jack!" because he knows that left is not the direction of the Jerrolds household. However, if I turn right Noah yells, "Emma, Jack! Yeah!


Noah, Jack and Emma each go to gymnastics at the same time each week and Jack and Noah are in the same class. It takes only one of them to head off in the wrong direction and the other is sure to follow, smiling and yelling as they run off.

The joke between their mom, Heather, and I is that Jack and Noah share everything. In fact they both went to the same doctor last Friday for an identical eye infection and cold. They were prescribed the same medicine and split the same bag of popcorn, laughing at each other across their shopping carts, while their mommies waited for their prescriptions to be filled at Target.

Noah is blessed to have such good friends at such a young age. As he grows his memories will only be more enhanced as they will include the friends that he loves and who love him. What better way to experience life.