My little flirt.

For those who don't know him, Ashton looooves attention and smiles coyly at complete strangers until they smile back. He has no qualms with leading people around, physically or metaphorically, to get what he wants. He also loves to be in the center of whatever is going on.
Last night, we watched Happy Feet at our good friend Melissa's house. Afterwards, Isaac and I were dancing to the credits. Ashton wasn't about to be shown up. He took Melissa by the hand, led her out to the dance floor and started boogying. I think I may be in trouble when he gets to be a teenager.

Being a big boy.

Isaac is still working hard at being a "big boy." This is of course an important thing in his big three-year-old world, and he quickly corrects anyone who slips and accidently calls him little. (Obviously morons.) As part of his big boy training, we borrowed the Rigby's Elmo potty-training video, complete with song and dance on how everyone has accidents, and that accidents are an OK part of learning how to go potty. This has been very helpful because now we know the instant that Isaac has an accident. He runs to us and says matter-of-factly, "It's OK to have accidents Mommy." I, of course, feel very reassured as I clean the urine off the floor, send him upstairs to put his soggy clothes in the bathtub and look desperately for the last pair of clean underwear.

One of my favorite things to watch is how Isaac and Ashton interact. They really are good friends. Ashton looks up to Isaac so much and Isaac looks after his little brother. A couple months ago I refused to reach back in the car to give Ashton back his toy for the 131st time. After Ashton had cried for a minute, Isaac looked at me, shocked that I would be so abusive, and exclaimed "You stupid old meanie head!" (Really, I can handle the stupid and the mean, but did he have to call me old?) He had a very sweet apology afterwards, and it was a good opportunity to talk about friendship, family and forgiveness. In the meantime, despite being the object of criticism, I couldn't help being proud of him for sticking up for his brother.

Hat?

So Ashton is really into sharing . . . everything. It doesn't matter whether it is a toy he is enjoying or a half masticated piece of fruit, he insists you share in his pleasure. (Unless of course "you" happen to be another child . . . in that case the words "NO!" takes on a whole new meaning.)

Some of Ashton's favorite things to "share" are hats. Whether this is because his dad is becoming a nifty-knitting nut or because his mom has an addiction to beanies (really, I have a problem) remains a mystery. Either way, he will wear anything close to a hat (spaghetti anyone?), say "hat?" and then take the hat off and put it on your head. Today Ashton put a knitting ring on his head, and exclaimed "hat?" while talking to Grandpa on skype. He then put it on my head, repeated the ceremony, put it back on his own head and then, without skipping a beat, put the ring on Grandpa's "head" (ie the computer) and in a delighted voice said "hat?". It was reaffirming to know that he is actually developing a relationship with those people at the other end of the screen.