This afternoon, post-Trixie-nap, I was puttering around in the dining room. I'd put Bailey down on a couple of quilts on the floor in the living room, and I knew Trixie was in there too, playing with something or other.
I heard a furious rattle of plastic, and then giggles,. then more plastic rattling, so I went in.
Trixie held one end of a chain of plastic links and Bailey held the other and they were thrashing it back and forth and laughing hysterically at each other.
"Ah," I thought. "THIS is why I wanted them to have a sibling."
Trixie has been learning about names and that people can have different ones. So she says "Josh!" to her daddy to make him say "No, I'm Dadda!" and says it back to us: "You Dadda, not Josh."
I get: "You Mama! Not Dude." I'm not sure she knows my name is Cori, but I guess we do sound like Bill & Ted around here a little bit...
Trixie's mind must just keep running, even after she's said something, so that the next thing she says makes perfect sense to her but is complete nonsense to us. Tonight at dinner, Josh was telling me about a giant cube farm he'd seen during the day, when Trixie turned to me and said, quite clearly, "I have four heads." Then she drank more juice while my brain did a hiccup as I tried to get back to the cube-farm.
Later I was feeding Bailey in the living room while Josh was running her bath and she said "I'm going to work now. Pillow coming with me." She grabbed the pillow from the toy chest/bench and walked off.
She remains addicted to playing with Bailey's earlobes while she sucks her thumb, and when we try to explain that they're HIS ears she looks at us like we have four heads.
I've decided to close all comments except for the most current entry. I've been getting a lot of comment spam and it's a pain in the ass to have to delete it all from old entries. It's not like anyone but my mother has anything to say to me about these entries anyway, so I don't expect anyone else will care.
I'm a little discouraged by the near-total lack of comments from the family members who I know are reading this blog. Take five seconds and tell me something about the stories I'm telling about your niece, nephew, granddaughter, grandson, great-granddaughter, great-grandson -- or I may decide to stop telling them and you can go back to relying on infrequent visits and yearly birthday cards for your information.
I was getting set up to nurse Bailey in bed the other morning (his ease in nursing has been such an unbelievable joy, especially since I can do things like nurse him in bed with a minimum of fuss and a maximum of sleep).
Anyway, he looked up as the giant fleshy globe descended toward him, let out a squeal of joyful laughter, reached up with both hands to grab it and applied himself to it with great gusto.
My son is SUCH a guy.