Today makes Little Guy three-and-a-half. I find toddlers and this age in particular so interesting. They look and behave not like babies but not like kindergartners either, just somewhere in between.
“Me peed,” Little Guy informed me as soon as he woke up. He wears training pants at night and underwear during the day. Usually the wet announcement isn’t a big deal, but he had peed so much that it soaked his diaper, pajamas, and a spot through all layers of blankets and sheets on our bed.
“I need change my jammas,” he said lying on the bed on his back with his legs bent into his chest like a baby’s. His footed pajamas reminded me even more of babyish position. Except that this baby talks in full sentences, praise the stars. “Can you help me, please?”
“Yes,” I tell him. Without having to get out of the warm bed, I helped him change his pajamas and get new ones out and on. Awesome. Then, he came back to bed to hide under the covers from “monsters.” Even better, he wanted to snuggle and stay in bed.
Usually, he gets up too early on sleeping in days and begs for me to get up and get his yogurt. And if I don’t get up after he’s pulled off all my covers (“Der ooh go,” he says) and handed me my robe (“Ou’re welcome.”), he goes upstairs and gets his yogurt tub out from the top shelf of the fridge and starts helping himself. Messy.
That we lounged around for and hour with minimal effort on my part started off the day right for me. The rest of the day had its ups and downs, but I got the entire upstairs bathroom clean, minus mopping the floor. I watched an episode of “Psych” and half and episode of “Monk” while I waited for my appointment at work who didn’t show up. I read half of two of my roommate’s magazines. I got to tickle Little Guy a lot, listen to his laugh, and see his smile.