The Todds In Real Life: Almost 3-year-olds when they "help".

I think since having a baby, I was able to finally see Tessa as truly un-baby for the first time. Because there was always something I could see that would make me think baby. Not anymore! This paradigm shift has led us to naturally give Tessa more responsibilities around the house. And then she decides whether or not she will comply or act like a cat.

"And how helpful is a 3-year-old anyway?", I thought to myself last night as I watched Tessa pretend a fork was alive and crying because it wanted to go to sleep. And instead of setting the table, she puts all of the forks to "bed" under a dinner plate and then presses her face against the table and her lips against the plate and whispers things to them. She also insisted on bringing Daddy his glass of milk. (Yes, you read that right. My 34-year-old husband drinks milk at dinner.) She is smiling the whole way with pride so I can't, of course, take the glass away. But I can chart her course step for step by the white puddles on the floor. And who cares if her shirt got milk all over it and she will smell like stale milk later? Not me. I, for one, smell stale milk so often these days I would probably think something was wrong if my clothes, bed, hair, baby, toddler, dog, etc. didn't.

Besides the jobs we give her to do, there are the things Tessa asks to do. These requests always center around two activities: cooking and Jack. If I begin to cook dinner, Tessa will run into the kitchen and ask,

What are we doin' here, mom?

I'm cooking dinner.

Tessa want to try!

Pleeeeeeease!!!

unh! (Me grunting as I pick her up and put her on my hip.)

Oooooh!

Don't touch the pan--it's very hot, OK?

Okay.

Tessa want to try it!

Then I hand her the spoon, and she stirs so ineptly and vigorously that half the contents end up on the stove where they sizzle and burn. And whatever you do--don't try to "help" her stir better!!!

She also LOVES to help take care of Baby Jack. She likes to "help" his swing by standing in front of it and shoving it as it reaches the apex of it's arc. And then Baby Jack goes flying back into what I like to call, The Conquistador. Those of you who ever grew up going to the Arlington Six Flags will know what I'm talking about. So Baby Jack gets a free exercise in inner-ear disruption rather than a relaxing nap. The same goes for the bouncy chair. Tessa loves to bounce it for me. Never mind that we have to strap Jack in first--just kidding, she's not that bad! Just look at Jack's face. Does this look like a worried little brother? He's actually waiting for the smell of his diaper to make it to Tessa's nose so she will go away...