My sweet sister decided that I should create this blog. Having just started one herself upon learning of her pregnancy several months ago, of course she came to the conclusion that I should do this too. It's been several months, most I've spent not even giving a blog a second thought, and now I have a quiet moment and I guess I want to record some of the infinitely humorous things the small people in my life say with relative frequency. Those small people of course being the chief reason that I haven't even attempted a blog in the last 4 months.
So...here goes.
Tonight, on the way home from Jackson's best friend Chloe's house Jackson announced that we needed another baby. Actually, he announced that "Grant's going to be 2 years old in February so you need to grow another baby in your tummy mommy." To say that I was taken aback is an understatement. I don't even know where to begin on what surprised me more, that my not even four-year old knew that his brother is going to be 2 in February, or that babies grow in tummies, or for that matter why in the world he would want another one.
When I pushed for answers the following is what came to light. Apparently, in Jackson's opinion, mommies have babies when their current babies become 2 years old. Two years is, in Jackson's opinion, not a baby anymore, and there always has to be a baby. To give him credit, Jackson was 2 years and 3 weeks old when Grant was born. I'd say he doesn't remember that event, but then again he remembers the exact butterfly costume that Chloe wore on Halloween when he was just 18 months old. When I asked why we needed another baby he said quite matter-of-factly that someone needed to be around to wear Grant's shoes when he outgrows them. OK.
Finally, I asked him why in the world he'd want another baby when he's not always so fond of the baby brother he has. His answer was that this time God was going to give him a girl who wouldn't play with his stuff. I asked what would happen if she did play with his stuff. He said he'd put up the baby gate so she couldn't get out of the living room.
I relayed all of this to Heath, he said he'd rather just give the outgrown shoes to Goodwill.
So, in addition to the wonderful musings of my nearly four-year old, we have the death-defying antics of an almost two-year old. I've attached the most recent picture, where all the current wounds are evident. Wednesday, the child fell off the top of the playground in the backyard, smacking the ladder with his cheek on the way down. Thursday he fell in the driveway on his nose. It was 35 degrees out and he was dressed like the Pillsbury Doughboy and couldn't put his hands down to catch himself. Today, Saturday he careened head-first into the fireplace hearth and has a knot on the top of his head. Thank goodness for bags of frozen peas!
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