Convos with Jojo

For as good as Monday was, today was just as bad.

Whining, fighting, and disobedience - primarily on Jones's part - marked the day and left me texting Jeremy IN ALL CAPS about how miserable things were here at home.

Just before bed, though, things took a sudden turn. Our 6 year old neighbor girl stopped in during dinner, and after she left, as Jones was getting ready for bed, we had this conversation:

ME: "Are you glad you got to see Aubrey? Is she your friend?"
JONES: "No."
ME: "Well, who IS your friend."
JONES: "YOU'RE my friend."

So.

He's forgiven.

Convos with JoJo

On Wednesday nites, we have to take two cars to church, so tonite, after loading the boys in the car, Jeremy said to them, "I'll race ya home!" Jones answered, "We gonna beat you, Dada, in your new beeg car(t - for some reason, he always adds a t)."

At the next stoplight, Jeremy pulled up beside us, and then, he SMOKED us in the turn. When he did, Jones said, "We haffa catch 'im! KA-CHOW! (like Lightnin' McQueen)."

(For the record, Jeremy won. Also, for the record, as I strapped Jones in his carseat, he told me, "I missed you!")

When we got home, Freddie disobeyed, so Jeremy went to deal with that, while I took the opportunity to review the importance of obedience with Jones.

"What happens when you disobey?" I asked.

Jones responded matter-of-factly and as if he were trying to clear up a misunderstanding. "NOT me," he said. "I not disobey. Freddie did, NOT me."

Ohhhhhh. Okay, Buddy. I gotcha.

Convos with JoJo

I was talking to my friend Brooke, while the boys ran, willy nilly, up and down the hallway, in and out of each others' rooms, opening and closing doors like they were acting out a French farce. This is very probably their favorite thing in the world to do (I'm not joking), and I'm just now getting to where I feel comfortable letting them do it without my watching every single second out of fear that they'll accidentally drink the Drano under my bathroom sink (that is ALSO not a joke).

After a few minutes of jubilant mayhem, I heard Freddie WAILING. I have no idea what happened, but I DO know that, when I walked in to Jones's room where both boys were at that point, Jones was hiding behind his bed, saying to me:

"Sorry. Sorry. You (for)'give me?"
"Yes, Son. I forgive you, but what did you do?"
"Sorry. Sorry."

I still have no idea what happened, but that guilty conscience tells me something did.

Convos with JoJo

Conversation while driving to my parents' house for Christmas.

JONES: Mama, is Dada going so fast?

ME: Yes. He is going fast.

JONES: Are we racing?!? 

(Please note: Dada was not going TOO fast.)

Convos with JoJo

I have a feeling that (usually) picture-less posts with short exchanges that I have had with one or both of the boys are about to become more common, as the they get more and more chatty. For now, I'll title Jones's "Convos with JoJo," and when they start happening with Freddie, I'll come up with a title for him; both monikers will signal that the post to follow will just be a little conversation that's too long for their daily memory books but too cute to forget.

Here's a couple from today:

First, the boys were playing in the playroom when I went in to break up a fight (one of many I broke up this morning; is it a full moon or something?!?). As I went to leave, this:

JONES: Play, Mama.

ME: You want to play? 

JONES: No, MAMA play.

It's the first time he's outright asked me to play with him, so I pulled out a CARS playmat that's been on a shelf for awhile, and I picked up Wahken and handed Jones Mater, and together we "raced" through Radiator Springs. I hope Jeremy will understand if the laundry goes undone another day.

The second story came after lunch. Jones loves to get "peechures" in any form - it can be the cardboard tag from his "Christmas britches," for all he cares. He'll carry them around and put them in his pockets and prize them like honest to goodness treasures. 

Knowing this, I gave him a postcard we'd brought home from our trip to the Eseeola Lodge. It's honestly nothing more than a 3x5 card with an image of the Lodge on its front. Here's exactly what he said (I know, because I immediately wrote it down):

"A peechure? For ME?!?! Oh, sank you, Mama! ... I like dat peechure."

I include this here, because it was so precious and such a reminder of the revelation I had on his birthday to not over do it with gifts, because we don't need ANYTHING and because I NEVER want the day to come when he isn't over- the-top excited to get something as simple as a "peechure."