Will is one month shy of 4 years old. On the one hand, I can’t believe he is that old, and on the other, I can barely remember life before him.

He started preschool at Forest Lake Montessori School this fall. The school is small – 18 families, a few with multiple children in the program. He goes 5 days a week, and is just this week starting to truly accept it as fact of life. While he enjoys his time at school, the time prior to getting dropped off was full of tears and distress for the first several weeks. He even would wake up crying about. It broke our hearts, and if we weren’t so sure he was having a great time DURING school, we might have second guessed ourselves. Steve did the dropping off for the first few weeks, but I’ve changed my work schedule so that I can drop him off now, since it is on my way to work. He goes from 9 until noon. I’ve definitely noticed an increased sophistication in his thought patterns, and some funny mannerisms that I think come from other children. Will has always had a highly developed abstract vocabulary for a boy, but now he is able to speak more confidently about difficult concepts like days of the week and seasons, etc.

He has been dry in the mornings for several weeks now. When he needs to, he uses the little potty in his bedroom. The boy likes his privacy. Not sure how we will wean him of the little potty, but at this point, I don’t care. Its working for everyone right now.

When I was little, I enjoyed Richard Scarry’s books. My mother gave me some of my old books a while ago, and Will I have been reading an alphabet Richard Scary book. Each page has lots of pictures and words featuring each letter. One of the fun things is that each page has “Lowly Worm” on it, and we enjoy searching for Lowly Worm together. The books are old, and Richard Scarry is British so the pictures and terms are often strange to both Will and I.

It is the season for unanswerable questions and statements from Will. Examples:

“Why is church so far away in the land?” silence “What is the land?”

“Airplanes don’t hold hands with sisters!”

Will and I were looking through an old calendar that featured a picture of me, Steve, and Will, when I was pregnant with Ellen. In the picture, Will has his hand on my big tummy. I told Will that Ellen was in my tummy (I know that’s not technically correct, but close enough for Will’s purposes) in that picture. A few days later, driving home from church and apropos of nothing we had talked about that day, Will said to me: “Mommy, do babies get scared inside tummies?”

Me: “No, they aren’t scared since they know they are right near their Mommy.”

Will: “Are their eyes shut?”

Me: “Yes.” (I actually have no idea if eyes are open in utero or not, but Will needed a definitive answer, and wouldn’t have stood for “I don’t know.”)

Silence.

Will: “Mommy, how did Ellie get out of your tummy? Oh, wait! I know! Through your mouth!”

Me (snorting quietly): “No, not through my mouth. Mommies’ bodies are very special – there is a place for babies to come out between our legs.” I don’t know why I didn’t use the term vagina, since Will knows the correct names for all body parts. It must have been because I was a bit unprepared for the discussion.

Will: “Do you make holes in your legs?”

Me (silently dying): “Nope, just one hole.”

Silence.

Me: “Monkey, what are you thinking about?”

Will: “I can’t tell you, Mommy, I’m too busy thinking about it.”

Me: “Okay.”

Silence.

Will: “Mommy, I’ll tell you what I’m thinking about.”

Me: “Okay.”

Will: “I’m thinking about how I want to be in your tummy again.”

Me, through the tears that are closing my throat: “Oh, darling, sometimes I wish that, too, but mostly, I’m so glad you are here on the outside for me to see and hug and talk to.”

Although I wrote about this before, I’m going to copy it into this entry so I have it in one place….

W: "Do you have to go to work tomorrow, Mommy?"

Me: "Yes."

W: "Why do Mommies go to work ALL THE TIME?"

Me: Silent, trying to figure out how to explain wages and mortages to Will, in addition to the fact that often Daddies go to work too.

W: "Do you go to work for a long time, Mommy?"

Me: "Yes, a long time." (This answer is a probably futile attempt Steve and I are making to make Will's 3 hours of preschol feel short to him).

W: "Why do you have to go to work EVERY DAY, Mommy?"

Me: Silent, trying to figure out how explain the nature of adult employment in a corporate office.

W answering himself, sadly says: "Because the work isn't done yet..." pause "...EVERY DAY the work isn't done." I swear he even shook his head in resignation.

I almost peed my pants. He sounded so burnt out and yet philosophical at at the same time.

Ellen is 1.7 years old.

There is pretty much nothing more comforting than knowing when I offer to sell my children (or pay someone to take them), Jennie G will take me up on the offer. This sentiment has applied more often that I would like to Ellen in the last few months. I think we are on the mend, though – knock on wood.

We think Ellen had a period of ongoing discomfort (if not actual pain) while teething for several weeks because she was just so very cranky and stubborn and fussy - all (except the stubbornness) fairly uncharacteristic of her. Will was never as challenging at just under 2 as Ellen has been, so we just weren’t prepared for this.

Ellen’s vocabulary is incredible, and she is making simple sentences now. “Daddy go?” “Hammie down.” She says “raining” and “drawing” and “how you do-win?” “Soon!” (as she leaves a room, meaning see you soon). “Ahhwight” “OK!”

One of my favorites is “Dweems!” which is “Sweet dreams!” – she says this whenever she closes a door.

Ellen’s temper was at a peak for a while there, probably due to the teething. During that time frame, I got so frustrated with her, I actually cried once. (Better to cry than to string her up by her toes). Sure enough, she looked up at me with her beautiful blue eyes, and said, “How you do-win? S’okay. Kiss? Love-ooo.” I know that most of that was that she knows the things to say when someone is unhappy because she hears that from Steve and I to her and Will, rather than really understanding the sentences, but it was incredible to me, none the less.

A month or so ago, we realized that Ellen was calling Will “Hammie” and we couldn’t figure how where that came from. Steve thought it was a bastardization of “-yam” part of Will’s full name. I wasn’t sure. Then, one day, I heard Steve call Will “Hammie-slams” which is short for “Handsome” which is what Steve has called Will for a long time, and eureka! We had figured it out. So, Hammie it is, for Ellen. Often, when she seems him, she says, “Hammie! Hug!”

Socks have been unpopular with Ellen recently. I think she’d ditch the shirts too, if she could.

We had spell of bathtub pooping with her. I think its over, but that wasn’t fun. Once, she and Will were in there together, and I heard (from the next room) Will yell in panic, “Mommy! It looks like poop!” Poor Will. Ellie didn’t mind in the least.

She is so tall now. Her body is strong and lean and muscular. She trots very confidently now. She still has virtually no hair.

Steve does “Your Baby Can Read” with her, and is seeing amazing things from her, recognizing words and pictures.

She "reads" on her own for good stretches of time.

All in all, I find her physically and intellectually amazing. She has a self confidence that I suspect I never had, even as a toddler. I hope she never loses that confidence – it is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, no matter now challenging it makes things to parent her.