3 years

He's 3 years, 30 lbs, and 37 inches tall. After the monthly infant check ups suddenly end at the first birthday, with annual check ups thereafter...Jasper had his 3rd one today. What a gem he was. In a new doctor's office only a few minutes from home, surrounded by screaming kids yelling "no, no no!" he was a superstar: cooperative, responsive, polite and calm. Beginning with getting his blood pressure taken, interacting with the hearing and vision tests to his willingness to pee in a cup and ending with getting a prick to take a sample of his blood - I felt so proud and relieved. At the same time, I really didn't expect too much different. He's always been superb at the doctor, as well as on planes and in most public places. He's interested and engaging with people everywhere we go. I do not feel fear for him. I let myself be open to his observations and do my best to take his cues while being fully there for him. Today I saw him as more grown up than ever. He even surprised me by saying that a square was a square, which I did not know he knew. After an hour and a half, we left. Outside the air was fresh and crisp, the sun golden - a beautiful day. We got settled in the car and I realized I was hungry. Jasper was too. We headed to the health food store and I purchased an Amy's frozen cheesey, noodle and veggie dish, ice cream sandwiches, chips and juice. Once on line, Jasper spies the lollypops and denying his request for one, completely melts down. Full on temper tantrum. I know he's tired and hungry. I let him cry. I say soothing things. The ladies in line tell me I am doing a good job. I didn't feel stressed, nor did I apologize for his fit. I just said thank you and accepted the offer to move to the front of the line. I paid and left carrying my groceries and 30 pound child to the car. I forced a screaming, kicking 3 year old into his car seat and drove home. I myself never lost it once. I was doing a good job. I let him cry at the door with his coat on while I got our lunches ready. Once the table was set, I scooped him up and offered the only surefire method of consolation: teta. While he nursed, I pulled off his coat and opened the chips. He let go and reached for a chip. Phew. We made it. He ate all his lunch and got the lollypop afterall. He didn't want it once he was reminded of the ice cream sandwich. Then we moved fluidly upstairs to brush teeth and take a nap. I am supposed to cut off the teta after the birthday party this Sunday. I wonder how well this will go over. I certainly won't have the luxury of calming him instantly like I did today. Nor will napping be a breeze. It's going to be a challenge.