Madmartigan, 3 Years Old | dig through the ditches and burn through the witches
About Mads, 3 Years & 3 Months Old:
Mads shows me his new boots (which I bought him). I say, "those boots are so cool!" He responds, "because I'm the coolest."
Mads is beginning to recognize bands, as in, when "Dragula" starts playing, Mads announces, "Hey! This is Rob Zombie!"
He says "last morning" when he means "yesterday."
Mads snuggles close and tells me, "You're my sweetheart."
Me: "You know that you're perfect, and I love you." Mads: "I will punch you with my foot!"
Me: "You've got three more minutes on that potty, and then I'm putting you back to bed." Mads: "I'll put you back to bed."
Mads says, "I'm a ninja. Ninjas don't go to bed."
Martigan has started tumbling, across the living room floor mostly and, once, he attempted to tumble on the sidewalk outside Target.
We've identified that Mads is possessed by a 3 Demon, an insidious creature that takes over my gorgeous, loving son on days he doesn't listen, doesn't sleep, throws tantrums at the slightest provocation.
Mads has started story-telling (and I think he has a real knack for it; he's funny and lyrical). As we wind down before bed, he tells us the story of how "at the market" he met a mummy. "But it was a nice mummy! He didn't bite me! He ate mummy balls." In this story, he also meets a skeleton and a witch, neither of whom bite him.
Mads says, "I can't say that word. It's too difficult."
Mads says, "You're so cute, Mommy."
He named the spring horse Grandma pulled down from her attic "Charger."
He dropped his first f-bomb this month; he repeated his dad's incredulous cry of "what the f--k are you doing?" (at a clueless and/or careless driver on the road) in the car.
donna@mail.postmanllc.net
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