Kids Say the Darndest Things

Shhhhhhh.....do you hear that?

It's the sound of a two year old listening to everything you say, processing it, storing it away for later, and then figuring out the perfect time to take what you've said and blurt it out - with his own personal touch.

I'm learning very quickly that words I choose around this house will 9 times out of 10 be repeated in some form or fashion by little Jimmy.

Every morning, I slowly open the door to the boys' room and then peek my head around the entryway and when they see me, I jump out, turn the light on, and say, "Good morning, my little lazy bums!" I then shower them with kisses, am greeted in return with smiles and lots of jumping, and occasionally find some sort of "gift" from a 12 hour sleep, which usually turns out to be a leaked diaper. (I've yet to walk in and find any major catastrophe...knock on wood.)

My kids don't mess around. Everything they do, they go all out. From the time their toes hit the carpet until it's time for milk, they keep going, and going, and going. Playtime is no joke, and we don't treat it like one. Jimmy and Jackson read, play games, use their imaginations, eat (and then eat some more, and then some more), follow me around the house and really only sit still for brief moments at a time. My little angels are so active when they're awake that after about 2 hours of playing, they hit their cribs hard for naps. And after a full day of playing and eating, bedtime is no joke, either. Both boys are in their room, lights out by 8:30 and I don't hear from them until sometime between 8:30 - 9:30 a.m. That's some major sleep, right there.

Jimmy recently surprised us all by showing us he can open doors. Thank goodness, our house seems already kid-proof in this area, and he can't access any doors that would lead to harm's way. The only downfall to this is, I've officially lost privacy when using the restroom, but let's leave that for another time.

The other day Jimmy got up from his afternoon nap a little early, and instead of fighting him to sleep for 30 more minutes, I brought him downstairs to help me in the kitchen. His new favorite thing is to ask me "What's that?" about everything - food, movie and television characters, home appliances, my work, everything. You get the gist. I thought he was right by my side when I was retrieving some plates from the cupboard when I looked over, ready to answer "What's that",  and found my shadow was no where to be found. I then heard the door to my bedroom start to open.

Thud!

The door slammed into the door jam and Jimmy ran to the portable crib where Jackson was sleeping peacefully.

"Hey, ya lazy bum!" Jimmy yelled.

I stopped dead in my tracks and didn't know what to do. Yell? Race to Jackson's aid? Cover my ears for the impending scream that Jackson would surely release?

Instead, I did the unthinkable.

I laughed. Hard. And I couldn't stop.

Sweet Jackson awoke without fussing and greeted his brother with tired eyes and a big smile, while Jimmy continued to pester him to "Wake up, Jack-Jack!"

I realize I should have grabbed Jimmy and told him waking Jackson up wasn't nice and warn him time out would be in his future if he did it again, but I couldn't help but laugh. The whole scene was so perfect, so toddler wonderful, I walked into the bedroom and the boys joined in with my laughter.

That night I was thinking about that hilarious moment before going to bed and I was struck with a thought that still frightens me just a bit - what on earth will I do when I have a newborn baby who will desperately need rest, and two little boys,who can both open doors and who will desperately want their third partner in crime to join in playtime?

Boy, am I in trouble.