Mr. 3, Going On 33..For A Day

James (3, turning 4 next month) is very aware that I’m 33.  Mainly because of the 1-digit difference in our ages.  “So I am three, and you are three-three, thirty-three!”  “Yes that’s right James.”  “Three-three is much older than three…(thinks for a moment) are OLD mummy.”  Ouch.  “Thanks James, but I’m not as old as your Nannas, am I?  They are 65.” (a small consolation).  “Yeah, they are REAAAALLLY OLD!”  “Yes, yes they are” (chuckle chuckle, yes indeed they are, and I’M NOT 65 YET JAMES).

99% of the time of course, James acts exactly like a 3, almost 4, year old should.  Example – he’s just embarked on the ‘silly word’ stage (which I read usually happens around 4 – 5 years, so well done James for being slightly ahead on this one).  Silly word examples that James finds hilarious at the moment are poo-bum, poo-head, stupid-bum, idiot, idiot-bum etc.  So basically anything that includes the word ‘bum’.  This was amusing initially, but when you hear ”you are a poo-bum, ha ha he ha ha” over and over, IT CAN DRIVE YOU INSANE.  (I will never understand how childcare workers do it.  I have heard they drink a lot.)

But then occasionally, James will have a ridiculously mature moment.  This morning was one.  He actually got into bed with me (instead of jumping on the bed or on my head) and proceeded to recount the dream he had last night.  He was 17, and he didn’t need Mummy or Daddy anymore (oh!) and was driving our car, going on holiday.  He went to a beach that had choppy water, but he put on his swimming goggles (he just got new goggles earlier this week) and was OK to swim.  He swam with a little fish.  James seemed very pleased with his dream. 

I think his conscious thoughts definitely came out in this dream:  he won’t put his head underwater at the beach, but after trying his new goggles at swim class on Monday, he spent half the class with his head underwater.  So I think he rationalised, then, in his dream that it would be OK to swim properly at the beach with the new goggles. 🙂

(Driving our car on holiday at 17…I choose to overlook that part.)

James later went to daycare and I was late picking him up today.  Usually he’s tired at the end of the day, and that can equal lots of whining, with increased risk of a meltdown.  Not tonight.  He was still being Mr Mature.  Full of wise and kind statements. “Sometimes I make mistakes, but that’s OK, because sometimes I will be wrong, and sometimes, I will be right.”  “My new shoes are perfect Mummy, they are so comfortable, thank you.”  “I love you so much Mummy, you are so nice to me.”

James, I love your ‘Mr Mature’.

Don’t grow up too fast, though.  Enjoy your silly, “poo-bum” phase!

(But stop asking me how old you have to be until you can drive the car!)


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