Lest anyone get too excited, the newest addition to our family has four legs, not yet a fetal pole and crown rump length. Jack Jack joined the chaos that is our household this week after graduating from the New Leash On Life program through Forsyth Humane Society. The weeks before his arrival were met with much anticipation; E woke up routinely asking, "Is Jack Jack here yet? Is he done with school?" She helped build his house, and dutifully tested it out for him.








She packed treats to take to him on graduation day.



Of course, the thought of JJ snacking necessitated a snack for E too... hence the Cheerios. Equity amongst siblings I suppose.


I thought she would surely squeal her way into wet (Cinderella) panties when she spotted him at the graduation ceremony. You mean the Cinderella panties that were sent home from school wadded up with the pants that actually matched this outfit? Oh, right.



They instantly became best friends...



Tickling teammates...





Partners in crime...





Begging buddies...



And simultaneously spoiled by Nana.





E has started teaching Jack his letters. When she got to"D", she said "D for Dog. They don't have a picture of a dog in the book though." I think he got it.



The first day he came home it was raining and muddy outside, so we wiped Jack Jack's feet off when he came in. E is now obsessed with cleaning his paws whenever he's been outside, and he humors her with the greatest of canine tolerance. She then asks me to find socks for his feet, and gets frustrated when I don't oblige.


Trying to keep up with him on his leash, she panted behind exclaiming, "Jack Jack, you're killing me!"





And she will tell anyone with a pulse inanimate objects all about "my new dog whose name is Jack Jack who came home from school and doesn't pee inside he pees outside and when he pees outside we say good boy but if he stands up in the kitchen we say no jack and then he sits and we give him treats and throw his ball and he eats my toys and gives me kisses i like dog kisses his name is Jack Jack". And breathe.





Me too, Jack Jack. Me too. Welcome home.

Lessons from the Potty

Elle has been potty-trained for several months now, but she still occasionally has accidents at school. I can always judge the success of the day by whether or not she is wearing the same pants (+/- socks and shoes) that she spent 20 minutes insisting on doing it herself I dressed her in. This time as I was handed the tightly tied grocery bag of toxic waste peed-upon cinderella panties, E's teacher reassured me that "the accident" occurred while she was en route to the potty. I felt better, knowing she didn't deliberately conspire to exponentially increase my laundry burden. But for some reason, the interaction made me think for a (fleeting) profound moment about our intentions. Even when when we mean well, even with the best intentions, we can still find a way to mess up. A lot of my mistakes in life seem to come because, although I'm steadfastly headed in the right direction, I just can't "hold it" till the finish line. And while I'm sure that God sighs with frustration when that is the case, I can't imagine how disappointed he is when we just stand out in the middle of the playground and create more dirty laundry for him. Even after he's asked us if we need to go a thousand times, and we've resolutely said "No" each time. Thank goodness he's willing to wash out our Cinderella panties each night.

Sorry, E. You can censor this next year when you figure out html...

BGB

Big girl bed, that is.

Because I'm pretty sure cribs are on the "Do Not Bring" list for college (just under halogen lamps), we decided it was finally time to get E into a toddler bed. She was delighted with the transition, immediately pointing to the entrance area and asking me, "This is the place where I can get out? All by myself?" Ummmm.... precisely what I was afraid of.

Night One went fabulously-- she even circumvented the usually laboriously drawn out pre-bedtime routine, being perfectly happy with 1 reading of each book instead of the typical 400. In she climbed, and we didn't hear a peep until almost 12 hours later! Too good to be true, I assured myself.

And I was right. While bedtimes have been quite smooth, the elusive entity known by some as Naptime has been an utter disaster. Not that it has ever been a consistent staple in our household, but at least I could mandate "rest time" by caging her in the crib. Not so anymore. I can't physically force the Vehement Anti-Napist to lie down in her bed, nevertheless stay there. Sigh.

Nonetheless, my baby continues to grow up. Out of diapers and crib; college really is right around the corner. Now about that Lava Lamp...

Elle-isms, 28-29 months

Me: Elle what are you drawing?

E: California.

Jay: What is Mommy? Is she a doctor? A lawyer?

E: No, she's a twin.

(Playing with magnetic letters) Me: "M"! For Mommy!

E: No, "M" for me.

(Handing me a plastic corn) E: Here's some corn.

Me: Yum, corn on the cob!

E: No, it's cornuCOpia.

Bedtime prayers:

God is great, God is good... pause.... Dear Jesus. Thank you for a wonderful day. At the beach. Thank you for mommies and daddies and for Jesus in mangers and for angels and for Marys and for our piggybanks. And sausage. Amen.

E: I'm trying to catch snow with my mouth.

Me: You are? What does it taste like?

E: Grapes.

(In reference to her boo-boo):

Jesus will make it all better. Not baby Jesus. Big Jesus.

E: I'm going to work.

Jay: What do you do at work?

E: I'm a doctor.

Jay: What kind of doctor?

E: A purple doctor.

Encountering this picture in the Dinosuar book:

E: What that is?

Me: That's a dinosaur.

E: No, it's a dinosaur BIRD!

Smarty pants.