I'm really sleep deprived. And so, I'm not as pleasant or patient as I should be with my big boys. They have been pretty difficult lately....the usual stuff.....not listening.....running amok.....being boys with a capital "B". Active, rambunctious, impulsive, boys. Crazy, wrestling, knocking-things-over, boys. "Let's see what happens if we step on a half empty juice box on the kitchen floor" boys. You know the kind. The boyish kind. The kind that take pleasure in putting every pillow and cushion that they can find into a pile at the bottom of the stairs, so that they can climb 7 (!) steps up - and then jump. And jump. And jump. Over and over and over until someone gets a bloody something or other. This is what I get for daring to take a shower.
Have no fear....the baby is never left alone with these creatures....these creatures that he will one day mimic. Creatures who LOVE potty language and use it as often as possible. Creatures who pee in the yard when I'm not looking and then crack up about it as they run around in front of God and everyone with their pants around their ankles. You know the kind....the kind who stash chewed up bubble gum in their underwear drawers, collect things like rocks and old keys and then forget to take them out of their cargo pants pockets before throwing them into the washer. The kind who draw pictures of rainbows and rocket ships....the kind who hug and kiss their Mommy and tell her that they love her....even when she was a really crappy Mommy that day. The kind who "read" each other stories, kiss each other goodnight unprompted, and are an excellent example of what friendship and brotherhood is supposed to look like. The kind who will give up their swing at the park if they notice that someone is waiting....the kind who will forgive their brother for just about anything.