Wyatt turns 3
by Jennifer Cohron
Apr 28, 2013 | 1190 views | 0 0 comments | 21 21 recommendations | email to a friend | print
Jennifer Cohron
Jennifer Cohron
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In the five minutes I’ve wasted trying to come up with a sentence to start this column, my son has made a clubhouse out of a Power Wheel box, used some taped pieces of cardboard as binoculars and worn an instruction booklet as a hat.

I’ve planned to write at least a couple of articles tonight in addition to this column. My brain is busy processing all the information that came across my desk today.

If I don’t get down to business and start focusing on one thing instead of a dozen, I’m never getting to bed tonight.

Yet I can’t tear my eyes away from Wyatt. He fascinates me, as he has every day since he was born.

Writing has always come naturally to me. Such is not the case with parenting.

I have made more than my share of mistakes in the past three years. My most oft-repeated one is having my priorities out of whack, expending too much time and energy on some project at work instead of my family.

I don’t expect that years from now Wyatt will say, “My mom did no wrong.” What I’m hoping for is “My mom may have messed up in so many ways, but at least she loved me like crazy.”

It’s not like he makes it too difficult to love him.

First of all, he’s adorable. If I had a nickel for every person who has ever made a comment about his curly red hair, I would have an impressive start on his college fund.

No one has a higher opinion of Wyatt’s hair than Wyatt.

Several months ago, he started crawling in my lap at random times and saying, “I yuv your hair.” At first, I thought the appropriate response was “Thank you.” I realized he was actually fishing for a compliment when he asked, “Mommy, do you yuv my hair too?”

The other day, he caught me going through his baby album, which I am prone to do around his birthday. Some of the early pictures really threw him for a loop.

“I not have any hair!” he said, unable to believe there was ever a time that he didn’t have a feather-soft crop of ringlets for people to run their fingers through in public.

Even if he weren’t the cutest toddler I know, he would still be the sweetest.

Children usually think the world revolves around them, so I have been amazed for a while how sensitive he is to other people’s feelings.

It started when he first tilted his head to the side and asked, “Mommy, are you happy?”

Then during the campfire scene of the original “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” movie, he turned to me and said, “Mikey crying because Sensei go away.”

Wyatt could detect sadness even before he learned the word for it.

Last weekend, I took him for a walk downtown and tried to explain demolition to him so he wouldn’t be caught off guard when the buildings started coming down.

As we made the loop, he kept asking, “They gonna tear that building down? And that building? And that building?” I could tell he was keeping a tally in his head, but nothing prepared me for what he said as we headed back toward home: “All them people’s not going to have anywhere to live.”

It was more than an observation. There was genuine concern in his voice.

Since 2011, the last week in April has been a time that I try to go the extra mile to cover tornado recovery. This year has been no different with both demolition and the second anniversary to consider.

However, I’m also painfully aware these days how quickly time is slipping by.

Today, I’m not going to be doing any writing or work of any kind. I have an awesome kid who is turning three, and he has a new Power Wheel.

That’s more than enough to keep me busy—and happy.



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