"I'll Be Watchin' You..."

Since Freddie was basically big enough to take notice of anything, he's taken notice of Jones. I've often said, "Freddie watches Jones like he's a movie." And he does. 

But sometimes, Jones watches Freddie, too.  Like today ... we were in the backyard, and Freddie was crawling up the concrete steps. Then Jones decided he'd go up, too, so he, of course, walked up, steadying himself with a splinter-filled, wooden railing. His pace was, obviously, quicker than Freddie's, so he passed Brother, and as soon as Jones was in Freddie's line of sight, Freddie changed his mode of transportation. He immediately crawled over to the railing and pulled himself up to climb on two feet, as Jones was, instead of on all fours, as he'd been doing. 

It was adorable to see him mimic his brother. Just as adorable was when Jones turned around to check on Freddie, making sure he was okay. "Baby fall," he'll alert me any time he thinks Freddie's in danger. 

Another example of Big Brother looking out for Baby came in Nashville last weekend. Jones woke up with tummy troubles just after midnite. Since he and Freddie were in the same room of our hotel suite, Jones's cries, of course, woke up Freddie. Well, Jones had kind of spit up (it was too little to call it a "throw up," but it was enough to require removal of his t-shirt), so I'd taken his t-shirt off and was snuggling with him on the sofa.  He was wearing nothing but pajama bottoms and the blue and white afghan my Aunt Ethel made him when he was born. I kept expecting Freddie to settle himself back down, but when he didn't, I got up and brought him over to the couch with Jones and me. Jones was wedged between me and the back of the sofa, and Freddie was laying on my chest. There we were, the three amigos in the darkened room, when Jones took the blanket he'd been wrapped in and draped it over Freddie. 

It was cripplingly sweet; it also gave me a moment to remember for all the times Jones tries to ... steal Freddie's sippy cup or slam him on the ground and put him in a chokehold.

Something else awesome happened today.  Jones picked up another "chore." Now, in addition to "straightening up the 'room' (Jones for 'playroom')," Jones has to wheel the trash can out to the curb and back on pick up days (Tuesday). Given his passion for pulling wheeled objects behind him, he seemed VERY excited to help today.  We'll see how long that lasts.

Another cute story from today involves a cute story I don't think I ever got around to posting when it first happened. "Jesus, Joy of the Highest Heaven" was the Hymn of the Month for December 2013. I absolutely love this song, so I kept singing it all year long. Well, by December 2014, when I was really singing it a lot again, Jones was able to pipe in on certain words, most notably "star" in the middle of the first verse. I sing, "Born as a little baby, under a wondrous...," and he'll VERY energetically add "DDDDAAAAAWWWWWWRRRRRRRR."

Well, tonite, "we" were singing it as I got him dressed for bed, only when we got to the point where he'd typically say, "DDDAAAWWRRRRR," he instead said, "dac-dow (tractor)" and laughed like a hyena. We repeated this several times, laughing uproariously together.  It was actually pretty magical, both of us belly laughing at his utter silliness.

I'm hoping the times that we laugh like that together are too many to count.

Speaking of laughing, I'll end this post with a video that Jeremy has insisted I share. 

So you remember the John Deere tractor that Nan and Pop were VERY generous to buy Jones for Christmas?  Well, he loves to look at it and touch the hood, but that's still about as close as he wants to get to it. Still, every time we play outside, he wants it out there with us, even though he answers, "Baby('s) dac-dow" every time I ask, "Do you want to ride it?" (He'll ride the real thing but not one his own size.  Go figure).

So today, I thought, "Wonder if I can ride that thing?" And wouldn't you know it ... I can. The posted weight limit is WAY off. I thought if he saw me riding it, he'd see that it's not such a scary thing after all.

Or maybe it is.

You be the judge.

(By the way, I'm totally fine, though I appreciate Freckle's cries of concern ... or is it horror?)