Baby's Got a Brand New Bed!

Well ...

Wally and the Beav moved in together today.

I was going to wait for awhile before bunking them up, and while I'm not entirely sure I won't end up regretting this, I ended up giving into Jones's begging and doing it sooner than expected.

It was going to be even sooner - the room was set up yesterday - but Jones did some high-octaine complaining, which we've really been working on lately, so I told him he'd have to wait, which made today The Day.

I decided to try first at nap time. My thinking was that it'd give them a chance to get the sillies out before bedtime. It didn't work. There were sillies A'PLENTY, and in spite of REPEATED demands that they be quiet and quit jumping on their beds, they never calmed down, so I put Jones back in his old room.

Freddie stayed in his big boy bed in his room. After I left, though, he got up and came into the den, whimpering and saying he was "scare." I went in and laid down with him for a minute, surprised that HE would be scared, and after he got calmed down, he went right out, all by himself.

I think they learned their lesson from my splitting them up. At bedtime, they were quiet as mice, except for a few squeaks out of Freddie. Just to put the fear of God in them, I popped in when Freddie made a little noise. Jones looked angst-y and said, genuinely, "I sorry, Mama. I told Freddie, 'Shhh.' It's all my fault." I knew it wasn't AT ALL his fault, but I was proud of his humble spirit.

They actually went to sleep much more quickly tonite than I'd expected them, too - so here's hoping I haven't made a huge mistake.

I'm nervous about the whole thing - but I remember being nervous when I took Jones out of his crib, too, so I know it'll pass, and I know they'll be fine. In case I was inclined to forget that, God prepared me with yesterday's Bible reading.

I read in Psalm 121 and loved the reminder that "He Who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you ..." As I was making the boys' beds last nite and worrying about one of them falling out of it - or Freddie getting out of it - and thinking that tonite would probably be sleepless for me, the Holy Spirit whispered that "He Who watches over me ... and Jones and Freddie ... will neither slumber nor sleep," so why should I worry, if He's watching over them? What more can I do?!? As they get bigger and into more and more things that I will be a nervous wreck about, I need to tattoo that to my wrist:

"He Who watches over them will neither slumber nor sleep."

So the boys are snug as a bug in their brand new beds (Jeremy just checked on them and said, "Freddie's in there, snoring like Shemp.") The real moment of truth will be in the morning when we find out whether or not Freddie gets up before we go in to GET him up.

Fingers crossed that he passes the test! I'm counting on Jones to remind him that there even IS a test.
__________

First, here's a video the illustrates what a remarkably grateful heart Jones has - and I pray he always does! This was taken on Wednesday nite when Mom delivered the mattresses she bought for the boys' new beds.



"Thank you very much ... for getting my bed to sleep in Freddie's room. You're boo-tih-full!"

When I first started working on the room, he saw it and said, "Look what you've done, Mama! ... It's beautiful!" He has NO trouble showing his emotions, that one!

This second video is of the boys while they were supposed to be sleeping today.


I can only imagine they're mimicking me with their, "Boys, boys ..."

They were watching the dogs run by on the street outside.

FINALLY! Asleep!

In my defense, I told Jeremy if he'd come up with some
Tarheel memorabilia, I'd happily hang it in the boys' room.

Jones reminding Freddie to "Shhh,"
so he doesn't get sent back to his old room

Singing "Jesus"

Mom kept the boys yesterday, as they napped, and I met some friends for lunch. When I got home, she told me that she'd gone upstairs to check on them pretty soon after putting them down, and when she got within earshot of the room they're sharing now (because they REALLY want to share a room), she heard them both singing at the top of their lungs the song they call "Jesus" but that I grew up knowing as "Something About that Name" (by Bill and Gloria Gaither).

No matter what you call it, it's a lifelong favorite of mine and has been at the top of both Jones' and Freddie's lists for as long as they could sing along. I am so grateful that she got this on video - AND that, when they're all alone in a pitch black room, they're singing about JESUS.

SURPRISE!

Freddie just peed in the potty.

Yes, you read that right, and no, I'm not even trying to potty train him.

He's said several times in the last few weeks that he wanted to pee pee. When he does, I'll take him in and let him sit on the "ducky potty," which is the padded seat that goes over my big potty. He's never actually peed, though, so I figured he didn't know he needed to go; he just wanted to sit on the potty.

Well, this morning he said it, and I put him off for a few minutes, figuring his request was just a boredom buster. He kept asking, though, so I finally took him. He took off his diaper ("I do it myself"), and then I placed him on the potty, assuming nothing would happen ... until it did, about six seconds later.

I'm not sure I'm really ready to train him - I mean, I want him trained by the time we go to the Bahamas (end of November), but I'm not sure he has the bladder control (Jones can go for DAYS without going) to make potty training anything more than a complete headache that involves potty stops in quick succession  on car trips. I just don't want to rush it. Jones was amazingly easy to train - at almost 3.5. I'd planned to wait until closer to 3 with Freckle.

It's beginning to look, however, like Baby Brother may force my hand.

Stay tuned.

(UPDATE - 55 minutes later: Freddie and I were reading a book when I noticed him straining. I said, "Do you want to stinky in the potty?" And sure enough, he did. Are we doing this?!?)

(UPDATE - end of the day: I decided to try Freddie on the potty training method that I used for Jones this afternoon. He never went in the potty again. I noticed, though, that he still pees really frequently, so I'm not going to force it - especially not with my plan to put them in the same room soon. I'm thinking we'll get through that, and then we'll focus on the potty.)

Sunday Funday

This morning, we made it to church about five minutes late for Sunday school. This drive me crazy (no, really. CRAZY), but when you live thirty minutes from church and have two toddlers who can't yet dress themselves, punctuality is a perpetual problem. 

As soon as we peeked our heads into Freddie's nursery, the wonderful Mrs. Betty said, "Hey! Is it your Sunday to be in here?" Well, it must've been. Last time we worked, we got an email reminding us, but we didn't get one this week, so it never occurred to me that we were on tap, so we apologized for not knowing and for being late, and headed into the nursery to do our duty.  

Jones isn't typically in Mrs. Betty's room. His room is Mr. John's, but this week, Jones had his typical "tummy troubles," so he was even clingier than usual, and Mrs. Betty suggested we just keep Jones with us, which we did. 

At one point, while they snacked on Goldfish, Jones turned to Freddie and said (of Lilian Brokke), "Dat baby girl is SO cute." It was so adorable. Jones calls ALL babies, "so cute," but still. It was pretty "cute" to hear him say that to his brother. 

I knew all along it'd be hard for us to leave Jones to head to church. I suggested to Jeremy that we take him with us to "big church." Jeremy agreed, and so we took him with us, very unsure of how it'd turn out.

We walked into the sanctuary just as the orchestra was starting to play. As we walked, Jones took in an excited breath and said, "oh, wow!"  Then, we sat down, and Jones did remarkably, amazingly well for a 3.5 year old on his first extended visit to big church, since he was just a couple of months old. I actually loved having him in there, cuckled up next to me, sucking on his thumb.  

Early on, I put my arm around him. He then put his arm behind my back just as mine was behind his. When I'd pat the top of his leg where my hand rested, he'd pat my back with the hand rested on there. He'd randomly look up and give me a kiss. He'd try to sing along, repeating the words he'd hear me sing, and he'd close his eyes as long as he could stand to during prayer time. 

It's hard to make it out,
but that's his sweet little arm
behind my back.

As the pastor got ready to preach, I unpacked my Bible. Jones asked, "What are you doin', Mama?" I said, "Shhhh. He's gonna preach." Jones must've heard "pray," because he responded, "After we pray, will we talk?"

About ten minutes before the sermon ended, Jones started getting restless - but he remained quiet and held it together long enough to survive the service, and I was thrilled. I asked Jeremy after church to rate Jones's behavior on a scale of 1 to 10. Jeremy gave him a 7. I gave him an 8.5 and his only real point deductions on my grade were because of his restlessness an hour into the service.

When we walked out of the sanctuary, Jones said to me, completely unprompted, "Sank you for takin' me to church, Mama. Sank you for takin' me to church, Mama. Dat was FUN!" Later, at lunch, he said, "Dat was fun! We will come back tomarder."

This is JoJo, praying.

After lunch, we came home for naps. Here's Jones singing his lullaby. 

While the boys napped, Mrs. Pressley called. Apparently, Ellery and Evan were at the Pressleys' this afternoon and when asked what they wanted to do, they said they really wanted to play with Jones and Freddie, so their Nana called to see if they could come over. 

I couldn't say, "Yes" fast enough. Around 4;30, we dropped them off at their grandparents' and headed to our small group for the nite. While we were gone, Mrs. Pressley emailed me this picture, saying they'd solved the problem of the boys'  having to take turns on the John Deere tractor. Finally, we came home, and I took this selfie with Freddie. It's just a shame that everybody in the world can't know this kid. He is one of a kind.  They both are, and I am so very, very grateful that they're mine.

Just Some Pictures

There's not a story, really, to attach to these pictures. I just love them.

The first few were taken on our standing "Tuesday with Daddy" lunch date (generally taken at Bogart's in Waynesville - or, as Freddie has called it for the last year, "DinDin"). I especially love the one where JoJo wanted to hold my hand while we ate lunch. He pretty much ALWAYS wants to hold my hand. I know he won't always be that way, so I'm just squeezing the good out of his while I can. 

The second set of shots were taken later in the week.  Particularly in the picture of him on his tractor, I can't believe how big Jones looks! And I love him in his Cubs hat. Any grandson of super Cub Phillip Jones Leslie HAD to have a Cubs hat; I like to imagine how proud Daddaw Phil would be to see his little namesake supporting his favorite team.

"JoJo 'kay?"

After I got them dressed for church this morning, Jones and Freddie were wrestling in the hallway - more like Jones was annoying the doodoo out of Freddie. In response, Freddie was doing as he does in these situations, whining until someone listens to him say, "he PUSH me."

Somehow, both boys ended up on the floor. Freddie saw this as his chance for some pushing of his own, and he (lightly) kicked Jones's head. It was a VERY slight blow, but Jones whined, anyway, and Freddie immediately sat up and asked, "JoJo 'kay?"

I post this as further evidence that Fred Pressley's heart is ten sizes too big, and I pray it stays that way. 

(For the record, where Freddie's heart overflows with compassion, Jones's is flooded with gratitude. He is the most grateful child I have ever seen, and I pray daily that these boys always retain these God-given traits, as they develop more and more of them.)