Unrelated Pictures and Text

{The pictures in this post are from the two weeks we spent in Birmingham after our family beach trip.  I know, a two week period about which I blogged not a word?  Shocking.  Well, you know how there are some days in the first trimester when you just want to crawl under the covers and take nap after nap, emerging from bed only when the morning sickness forces you to?  That's pretty much what I did, taking full advantage of the fact that there were loving grandparents and aunts and cousins who were willing to care for my children, and knowing quite well I'd be back to the grind the moment we returned to DC.  It was much needed rest, and quite a blessing.  So, aside from a couple meals out and three trips to the McWane Center, I did very, very little.  And it was wonderful.  And I am thankful.}

Can you see the mud-soaked footie, the grime caked under his fingernails, the scabs on his face?  Buddy Boy earned his stripes as a rough and tumble boy in those two weeks.

The Little Guy and I had an interesting conversation recently.
Him: God makes people all different colors.
Me: {wondering where this is coming from, since we've never had that talk...living where we do, he's so far accepted without question that people have different skin colors} Oh, is that right?
Him: Yep, God makes some people black and some people red.
Me: {thinking that this talk doesn't sound very PC} Ah.  Well, what color did He make you?
Him: {looking down at his striped shirt} Green and white!

And speaking of God...the Little Guy is absolutely, 100%, totally and completely convinced that the Deacon at our church is God.  Despite my very best attempts to convince him otherwise.  Every time the Deacon stands or moves toward the center of the altar, Little Guy calls out, "Dere's God!  Right dere!  Dat's God!"

Buddy Boy has discovered the trash can.  Like his brother before him, he loves to throw things away.  Unlike his brother, he does not seek affirmation that what he intends to throw away is actually trash.  I am forever checking the trash can for my baking mixes and jars of mayonnaise and missing shoes.  Oh, and when there's no trash can handy, a potty will do just fine.

Little Guy's imagination is really taking off.  He tells stories of giants and ghosts and dogs that get eaten and people that scream and flowers that fly through the air.   They go on and on, in an indecipherable loop of shifting details and changing characters.  He also has lots and lots of plot lines involving throw up.  We'll blame the new baby for that development.

Buddy Boy said his first word last week.  As we were coming in from our afternoon stroll, he turned to the doorman, raised his hand in salutation, and called out "Hi!," plain as day.  Since then, no words, just his very loud and persistent grunts and screeches. But I'm hoping the spark has been ignited.  To the trained eye, he can sign "more," "all done," and "please," which help a ton with reducing the frustration level.  I'm tellin' ya, you do NOT want to see this child frustrated.

He has dropped his morning nap.  {boo hoo hoo.  why so soon, Buddy Boy?  can we all observe a moment of silence for the morning nap?}  So, while I get dressed in the mornings, we've instituted what we call playpen parties.  Little Guy collects a bunch of toys and sits in the playpen with Buddy Boy, trying to entertain and pacify him.  "It's okay, Buddy Boy, your Mommy will come for you.  It's okay.  It's time for a playpen party."  :)  He is such a help to me.  Sometimes, it actually works.  Other times, Buddy Boy just screams like a banshee.  But what's a girl to do?

Inspired by a friend's blog post, I've been teaching the Little Guy all his important information over the last few months.  He can now tell you his full name, his parents' full names, the name of his city, the name of his building, his address, and his phone number.  And he knows that if he is ever lost, he should do his best to find "a firetruck man or a police car man or a fireman or a mommy with children" and tell them this information.  Somehow, it never occurred to me to teach him those things until I read that post, but knowing that he's armed with that information gives me a little sense of peace.  Just thought I'd plant the seed she planted for me.

We're back in DC now.  The season's changed, and we have resumed our usual cold-weather museum circuit.  It's a fun way to bring up babies.