1) The Ingles "car buggy" remains the bane of my existence. It's impossible to maneuver. By trip's end, Freddie's always trying to climb out of it, and inevitably, the boys bicker like an old married couple the entire ride around the store.
Still, they ride in it almost everytime we go, because ... THEIR (INITIAL) EXCITEMENT, Y'ALL.
They did relatively well on Sunday's trip. We were in line to pay when I heard some commotion coming from their compartment. I leaned over to find out what was up and to ask Freddie why he was bothering the you-know-what out of his brother. His quick-thinking response was, "I wanna hole Jo-Gee's hannnnnn."
Yeah, Kid. SURE, you do.
Yesterday, when we walked into the gym for the first time, since the New Year, Freddie saw that the garland had been removed from around the reception desk. He immediately asked me, "Where preeety go?" Though he used it then as a noun, "preeety" was his adjective of choice this Christmas season. "Dey preeety, Mama," I must've heard a thousand times in the last six weeks.
3) After getting our regular dose of Monday Doughnuts at The Pressley Group (we head there immediately after my Weight Watchers weigh in. Oh, the irony!), the boys and I went to Best Buy. Jones had to stand on the buggy, which was probably the coolest thing he's ever gotten to do. He called it his skateboard, and I'm not sure even the car buggy will do now that he's tried the skateboard buggy.
As soon as I handed it to Freddie, he said, "Dada. Catch." I guess he already knows what he wants to do when he earns that ball.
5) For the longest time, I've assumed that the boys wouldn't share a room as they got older. The basis for this was my fear that they - and, by extension, I - would never sleep for keeping each other up. Lately, though, I've been reconsidering that. I think they'd LOVE to share a room, so I'm leaning towards letting them - either as soon as the house is redone ... or we buy the twin mattress needed for Freddie's big boy bed.
This inclination was confirmed yesterday. In an effort to train Freddie to sit still and listen, I've been sitting them in Jones's bed before nap and bedtimes to read to both of them before they go to sleep. Jones was born with the ability to sit still for as many books as I'll read. Freddie's idea of "reading" is running around the room, waving his hands in the air, while I hold a book and beg him to be quiet.
But he needs to master this sitting skill for so many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that he's only got another two years in the church nursery, so we've been working on it. If he makes a single peep, it's immediately into his room for nap/bedtime.
Now, when I say, "Climb up in Jones's bed," he puts his finger over his lip and makes the "shushing" noise, and I'd bet he makes it through an entire story - and sometimes two - probably 80% of the time, which is a COLOSSAL improvement from where we started.
Progress or not, chaos kind of ensued before yesterday's naps, and as I watched them play, gleefully picking at each other like a couple of puppies, I thought, "These two have GOT to share a room." So that decision is made. Now, it's just a question of when to start. We've got a pair of matching twin beds, so all we need now is a mattress - AND for Freddie to transition to his big boy bed, which is something I am NOT looking forward to, as I don't think he'll be as observant of the "don't-get-out-of-bed-until-Mama-comes-to-get-you" rule as his brother is.
6) When I went in to get Jones up from yesterday's nap, he was sitting on his mattress, on his knees. He looked at me and almost immediately threw up. He didn't cry or anything - just straight-up upchucked. I said, "Buddy, does your tummy hurt?" "No," he responded, "but my cubbers (covers) dirty. We haffa wash 'em."
Remember what I said about Jones's Felix Unger-ness?
7) Along those same lines, we went to lunch with Jeremy today, as is our Tuesday tradition. Jones hasn't thrown up again, but he still has a tender tummy and wasn't much in the mood for his vegetable beef soup. Freddie, however, was eating it like he hadn't gotten up from breakfast an hour earlier. Apropos of nothing, Jones asked me if he could have a napkin. I handed him one, thinking nothing of it. He took it and said, "Here ya go, Freedie." Freddie took the napkin and started wiping the table in front of him. Jones said, "No. Don't put it on the table. Wash yourself."
Totally normal toddler behavior, right?
7) When he got up from his nap today, Jones wanted to cuckle for a good long time in the harvest gold rocker in his room. He didn't stir until a big blast of wind rattled his windows. "I must check-it-out," he said, a line I'm thinking he had to hear on "Scooby Doo," to which his daddy has recently gotten him addicted.
When we "checked it out," we saw our trash can had blown halfway down the street. "We need to go do your chore!" I said. After bundling up, we got to the top of the stairs, and Jones said, "Let's do my churrr," which is awesome, because according to Mayme, I famously used to talk about "Uncle Dave's sturr." As a result, I STILL call Lori "Leri," so I'm glad Jones got SOMETHING from me.
7) Finally, I'm 99% sure I've gotten Jeremy (reluctantly) on board to spend Freddie's third birthday at Disney World. I'm already losing sleep for mentally planning the boys' outfits and obsessing over whether or not we'll be able to get dinner reservations at Chef Mickey's.
357 days ...
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