The operative word is "had."
Michael woke up this morning with the "winter vomiting disease." Sounds so clinical and antiseptic. As you know, the results are anything but. What a mess.
I took this picture a few days ago. Was it perhaps foreshadowing anything for Michael? He was in mid-cough, I think, and miserable even then, for other reasons.
As we speak, my poor baby is resting in front of the television, with Little Einstein rolling on over and over and over. That rocket ship is getting some mileage today.
In healthier times, the three boys are really bonding and acting like brothers, who for the most part like/love each other.
I know in years to come if I don't write down the things they say, I will regret it. I will have forgotten these gems, but, I'll know I should have put pen to paper. This may be even better.
Jason and Michael have conversations all the time that don't include us parents.
Sometimes I'll hear them screaming at each other, "You aren't the boss of me!"
"Well, you aren't the boss of me, either!"
Then,
"Mommy, who's the boss of me?"
"Boys, that would be me."
All is silent after that.
After which, they return to the real issue at hand. "Jason, you aren't the boss of me!"
"And Michael, you aren't the boss of me, either!"
These days, if Jason isn't having these frank discussions with his brother, he's talking about Star Wars. All Day Long.
It's as if he wants us to live in a galaxy far, far away. I thought his interest would have waned, but, no. No chance.
The other day, he told me that I would be Princess Leia. Appropriate, yes. Jason told me he was Anakin, Michael was Luke, and Baby Joshua would be Han Solo.
"How about Daddy?" I asked him.
"Daddy is Chewbacca."
Nice, huh?
What's really been nice is watching the baby grow.
At nine months old, Baby Joshua is growing like a weed. Really. He's in the 80th percentile for height, at 28 inches. He's in the 10th percentile for weight, at 17 pounds. He'd enjoy those stats more if he were a teenaged girl.
He is sitting up confidently. Of course, we have to put him in that position. No complaints, though. He is not moving otherwise. He sometimes flips over on his stomach, and does the "superman." He knows he should be crawling, but, mercifully he is not yet.
The cutest thing he is doing now is waving. Understand, we don't really teach him anything. We coo at him, we kiss him, but the "lessons" we shared with Jason, or even Michael at that age--not happening. So, it surprised me the other day to see Joshua throw out his hand in greeting to someone at the boys' preschool, as if to say, "Hey!"
I thought it was a fluke. Then he did it again. He threw out his hand and started to wave his arms like a chicken. The people on our path LOVE it! And he does, too. I think our #3 is kind of a ham. He feeds off other people's energy. So, if people smile at him, he will do the same back. He is delightful.
And, as you can see, he is adding clapping to his list of accomplishments.
How can I forget our bedtime routine?
Daddy is the one to read them stories before lights out these days.
Of course, Star Wars books come first.
But, recently, Michael has started to branch out a bit. I have a book in our library given to me by a friend on getting a job in pharmaceutical sales.
And, sometimes, that is the only tome that will put him to sleep.
As I am running around before bedtime, sometimes I'll hear Doug reading to Michael, "The best way to get an interview is to be persistent....."
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