Before bed tonite, Jones and I played around with SnapChat filters. He LOVED it - and I loved getting to hear all of those giggles.
Afterwards, the mood disintegrated into sheer lunacy, which, after a day when Baby Brother's behavior had me wanting to make an extended solo stay South of the Border, was all kinds of awesome.
1) A few weeks ago, I ordered the boys some superhero capes on Zulily. They loved them, though Freddie preferred to wear HIS backwards. I'm guessing the "F" on the back stands for "Front" instead of "Freddie"? Seeing this, of course, Jones followed suit, as they both tried to fly, propelled by a polyester poncho.
2) Jeremy and the boys hung out at the house, while I went to the gym after breakfast. When I called to check in after my workout, Jeremy told me this story. Apparently, Freddie had gone stinky and taken his diaper off, while Jeremy was in our room getting ready. When Jeremy got into the den, a bare bottomed Freck was holding on to the sofa, while his big brother wiped his tiny hiney with a paper towel.
THAT is the most Felix and Oscar story there will EVER be.
3) After hearing Jones ask, "You thinkin' what I'M thinkin'" a thousand times, Freddie's finally started to ask the question himself ... KINDA.
"Mah finkin' YOU finkin'? YOU finkin' MAH finkin'?"
4) You'll be glad to know that Jones's imagination is as alive and well as any 3.75 year old. Today, he explained he'd broken the rule of getting out of his seat before finishing his breakfast, because an ant pushed him.
I'm not convinced. I am, however, amused - and proud of his increasingly vibrant mind. Don't miss the shout out to our favorite special agent at the end.
5) These are some of my favorite pictures ever of Jeremy and Freddie.
6) Jeremy took us all out to eat at the Hemlock Inn tonite. When we went for Mr. Pressley's birthday, we made a mental note to come back, so he surprised the boys and me with reservations for dinner tonite, which was very sweet. The boys had a ball. Jones, in particular, didn't want to leave. When I asked him at bedtime what he was thankful for today, he said, "That we got to eat at that place."
I don't think it was the food so much as the fact that he got to toss a frisbee around before they rang the dinner bell. Oh, and they had a Barney toy, too, so ... what's not to love?
On Thursday, the boys and I went to Greenville. This time, it was to get haircuts (we've found that Ashley at Snip-Its is the BEST, mostly because she's able to cut Jones's hair even as he pitches a crazy kind of madman fit. "If I can't cut a moving target," she told me, "I'm in trouble." I guess she's seen it all before, but she's the first stylist who's been able to cut his hair without making me feel like the worst mom in the world. Because of that, I will pay her whatever her price.) and, more importantly, to celebrate Pop's 65th birthday!
Since he was working for most of the day, we didn't get to see him until right before dinner. That's when we gave him his gift - the giant candy container shown above. Then, we headed out to meet Sissy and David at Trio for dinner. How Trio has remained so consistently fantastic since it opened in 1996, I will never know, but it remains my favorite - a staple spot for when I get together with friends. Fortunately, Daddy loves their BLT Pizza, so it was a perfect place to celebrate.
There is something so very "Dave &
Tom" about this shot. I love it.
We'd planned to go to the Lakeside Concert at Furman after we ate, but somehow, that got changed to just listening to the music at Downtown Alive in Greenville. And while we're on the subject of Greenville, can I just say that I hope people who get to raise their kids there know how incredible great that they have it. It's not everywhere that you can have a delicious dinner and then walk two blocks north to find some live music on a random Thursday nite in July.
But I digress.
On our way up Main, Daddy wanted to stop at Mast's to buy the candy he'd need to fill his giant jar. Once that deed was done, we were on our way to the "constert," as Jones called it.
As Daddy filled up his candy basket, Jones and Freddie migrated immediately to the car racks, which is exactly where they migrate whenever they enter ANY Mast's ... as if we don't have racks of cars ourselves.
I have learned that little boys are born with XY chromosomes and a genetic code that predispositions them to be obsessed with objects that have steering wheels. Anyone who tells you differently has never had - or interacted with - a little boy.
There. I've said it.
When we got to the block of Main Street where the music happens, Freddie couldn't contain himself. He started bopping down the street - Mom said he looked like a Blues Brother, which is as accurate a description as I can think of.
We parked ourselves outside of the vacant spot that once was Bistro Europa (for the record, I never really liked that place). The boys proceeded to chase each other through the openings, two of which were covered with all-weather panels. They pushed and played and chased for twenty minutes or more. To watch it looked like a waiter scene in a silent movie. All that was missing was a spittake. It was hilarious, and they had the time of their lives.
Then Jones started asking about the "constert" (all of this happened, while the band was on its break), so we walked over, so he could see the stage and, once they fired back up again, listened to another song or two before heading home.
Since Daddy hadn't gotten to see them ride their "alliGator," they rode for a few minutes when we got to the house. When it was time to go in, I told Fred to park it right in front of the garage. My thinking was that I'd push it the rest of the way in, assuming he couldn't thread the needle between Mom's "monster truck car" and Daddy's "new monster truck."
Shows what I know.
He proceeded to pull it perfectly between Mom's car and the wall of the garage and then turned just the right angle to park straight between the two cars. He then strutted out of the garage, his chest stuck out, and nonchalantly announced, "It's in the garage."
Thanks, Son.
On Friday morning, we swam; we then stayed long enough in the afternoon for the boys to see their beloved "Belba." Funny story about that - earlier this week, Jones and I were looking through an album of his baby photos. When we got to a picture of a four month old Jones with Uncle Bill and Aunt Belva, I pointed at her and asked, "Who's that?" Jones said, "Dat's BEL-ba!" When I pointed at Uncle Bill and asked the same, Jones answered, "Dat's her dad."
Heeheehee.
As expected, they loved visiting with Belba - and I think they were even glad to see "her dad." After a couple of hours with them, we headed back home where their daddy drove up just after we did.
It was a wonderful way to kick off the weekend, about which I'm hoping to write more tonite ... because BOY, is there a story ...
I must've put the lids on their cups
wrong, because both boys showed
up at Mom's with "big orng drink"
all over them.
This is Freddie, takin' it like a man,
with Ashley, who is AWESOME.
This look from these giant eyes
is one of my favorites.
If you aren't careful, Freddie will GET YOUR NOSE!
2) Jeremy and the boys hung out at the house, while I went to the gym after breakfast. When I called to check in after my workout, Jeremy told me this story. Apparently, Freddie had gone stinky and taken his diaper off, while Jeremy was in our room getting ready. When Jeremy got into the den, a bare bottomed Freck was holding on to the sofa, while his big brother wiped his tiny hiney with a paper towel.
6) Jeremy took us all out to eat at the Hemlock Inn tonite. When we went for Mr. Pressley's birthday, we made a mental note to come back, so he surprised the boys and me with reservations for dinner tonite, which was very sweet. The boys had a ball. Jones, in particular, didn't want to leave. When I asked him at bedtime what he was thankful for today, he said, "That we got to eat at that place."
On Thursday, the boys and I went to Greenville. This time, it was to get haircuts (we've found that Ashley at Snip-Its is the BEST, mostly because she's able to cut Jones's hair even as he pitches a crazy kind of madman fit. "If I can't cut a moving target," she told me, "I'm in trouble." I guess she's seen it all before, but she's the first stylist who's been able to cut his hair without making me feel like the worst mom in the world. Because of that, I will pay her whatever her price.) and, more importantly, to celebrate Pop's 65th birthday!
I have learned that little boys are born with XY chromosomes and a genetic code that predispositions them to be obsessed with objects that have steering wheels. Anyone who tells you differently has never had - or interacted with - a little boy.
We parked ourselves outside of the vacant spot that once was Bistro Europa (for the record, I never really liked that place). The boys proceeded to chase each other through the openings, two of which were covered with all-weather panels. They pushed and played and chased for twenty minutes or more. To watch it looked like a waiter scene in a silent movie. All that was missing was a spittake. It was hilarious, and they had the time of their lives.
Shows what I know.
Heeheehee.
