Talk talk talk

I'm sure I've said it before, but the second child just isn't destined to hit the same milestones as the first. Let's be real. They don't need to. They're at an advantage that the first one wasn't. They have an interpreter! I can't tell you how many times I've asked Bryson to 'use his words' only to hear Brooklyn tell me 'He is, Mom! He's saying...' I've come to learn that when I don't understand him, I simply ask her and she'll tell me what he's saying.  Most times, I hear his agreement and sense of relief that someone understands him.  She is his interpreter in every sense and we've learned to leverage that resource! Last weekend, he and I were out playing and Brooklyn had gone elsewhere to do who knows what, and so clearly he said "Where'd Brooklyn go?" He knows when she's gone and he misses her. Their cohesion and love for each other is precious beyond words.

I try to turn off the noise from the day on our way home from school.  We talk about the day. Did they have fun at school? Did they play outside? Did they play with friends? The questions go on and on.  It's with a degree of shame that I admit that one day I realized that I was only asking Brooklyn these questions, assuming Bryson couldn't answer in a language we'd understand. But boy, did he prove me wrong! The very first time I posed the questions to him, he answered each and every one! "Did you play outside today, Bryson?" "No." I knew this was true, because it was a cold day. "Did you play in the gym?" "Yes." "Who'd you play with?" "Jack." The conversation continued, and I was in absolute awe!  It seemed as if he'd just been waiting for me to ask him the same questions he'd heard me ask her every day since he could remember...and it was finally his turn. This was a turning point in my life as Bryson's mom.  I won't dismiss or doubt his abilities any longer. I will not spare challenging him, because he's more ready than I was aware of in that moment, and I don't want another episode of that to occur.  I don't have unrealistic expectations, but at the same time, I won't hinder him with any assumptions.  He's not just a sponge. He is his own intelligent being that has his very own piece of my heart.

Today was his picture day. New outfit: check. Mr. Congeniality: check. Poser: check. Need for practice: nah.  So when I got the call that he was scared and wouldn't even enter the room of the photographer, I was shocked, slightly disappointed, but very understanding.  After all, who likes to pose in front of a stranger?! Photos are really an oddity...an intimidating situation to show your best face and pose in front of a complete stranger.  Since I won't have any professional pictures of my boy this go round, here's my favorite of this busy body handsome love:

Bees in Brooklyn's room

Several months ago, Brooklyn started making midnight visits to our room. Multiple visits. Sometimes to potty, sometimes just to climb in with us. Let me tell you...it's.exhausting. Sometimes I can take her to the bathroom and return her to bed without a fuss. But other times it's a fuss and I'm not up for all that mess. Especially when it's 30 mins before my morning alarm goes off.  So nine times out of ten, she would win and we'd end up with a perpendicular being in between us.  Sometimes she'll come offering excuses. She's thirsty. Can't find one of her sleeping buddies. A common one has been that she has bees in her room.  When I hear that one, I go in to inspect the room, and assure her that there aren't any bees.  Finally the peices of the puzzle came together yesterday!  She said ,"It was that bee up there, Mommy!" I followed her pointed finger...and was led to the big polka dot 'B' above her window.  She's been talking about the letters 'B' in her room - not bumble bees! Upon hearing this, I cuddled up next to her and we went through the objects in her room: the polka dot B - Aunt Jan made for her. The wooden letter B - Aunt Kathy gave her that one. The bunny on her shelf - from Nona. The stripes on the wall - mommy and daddy painted those for her. The quilt she sleeps with - Mimi made for her. The doll in the polka dot dress - passed down to her from Nana.  The groupings of picture frames - Aunt Nessa crafted. The list goes on and on. By the end of our of our conversation, we came to the realization that her room is filled with love. Love from so many people that we're blessed to have in our lives. 

That night I tucked in a happy little girl.  As I was walking out of the room, she said excitedly, 'Mommy, I have a secret to tell you!'  I leaned over and she embraced my face as she whispered 'I love you so much, Mommy.'  All of my stressors from the day diminished and my heart melted.  And I climbed into bed with my little angel.  That's not breaking the rules, right?  The rule is that she sleeps in her bed. There's not a rule saying that mommy can't accompany her...