Ahh the joys of being a parent. I know the two’s are supposed to be terrible (and don’t get me wrong, they are miserable at points) but I am finding them so incredibly funny. Today in Jones’ swimming class Jones said to his swim instructor “Excuse me Drew can I use a noodle?”. Throughout todays class he kept yelling to my parents who were two stories above us and behind a glass wall watching. “I love you!” and “Grandpa, BB (that’s what he calls my mom. It started with Grandma B and turned into that. Needless to say we encourage it) hey!” and other things. There were times he yelled at them so loud that they actually heard him through the glass. The last week we keep finding Jones muttering to himself while he plays in his room “Ba ba black sheep have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full. One for my master, one for my dame, and one for my master daddy.” He doesn’t sing it, he just says it. He chants it like a mantra (yessss, just as I’ve trained him). Apparently Jones knows everything too. Books that we’ve read him only a few times we’ve found he has memorized. People he hasn’t seen for a year (that’s not long for us but in kid years that’s a lifetime) he remembers their hair color and the funny things they said. Songs that I sang him before Jess was pregnant are recently being discovered as memorized lyrics in his brain. I don’t know if all kids are like this, if he’s just special, or what. But it scares me. A couple of days ago he copied Jess and said “what the frick”. He’s seen me pick my nose and now he won’t stop. While playing his guitar last week he called me into his room to sing with him. He set up his sheet music (some old papers he found on the ground), sat on his chair, got his pick (it was a stick), and instructed me to sing “Jesus is Able”. At one point he paused his picking to remind me to “listen to the words daddy” as we are often reminded to do during worship. Jones has tattoos too. An infinity symbol on each wrist that he wears bracelets over. I don’t know where he got that idea. Eventually the infinity symbols became picks on each wrist and then he asked for a guitar on his back. Cute kid.

As for India, the stories aren’t as free flowing quite yet. She poops, pees, pukes, groans, smiles, laughs (kind of), sleeps, cries, rolls over (check out the video on my beautiful wife’s blog), and stares at the red curtains. I did forget in the last two years though what it’s like to constantly sleep on pukie slimed sheets. You just wipe it with a burp rag and go back to sleep. Yum. She’s beautiful, fat (already gained 3+ pounds and grown 2 inches), and is A2J (addicted to Jessica)