One Step Above Gibberish

Blogging is hard.

I’m being serious.

Stop rolling your eyes.  I can feel them through the internet.

To be fair, blogging is not the hardest job in the world.  There are probably a million different jobs than that of blogging, but still.  Coming up with blog content can be really difficult.  It feels incredibly narcissistic to think that people want to read about the things that I think about… or that I should write a blog post about my favorite things, the books I’m reading, the movies I’m seeing, the funny stuff my kids are saying… well scratch that… I love telling you guys the funny stuff that my kids say.

My in-laws are in town right now because it’s tax season, and wedding season… which is basically the most insane part of our year.  It is so nice to have two more sets of adult hands helping out with the kids, and the house… but it also means that I’m not seeing my boys as much as I usually do right now.  Grammy and Poppy dropped them off at home this evening, and I was ecstatic to see them.   After G&P left, the boys and I painted a while before deciding to cuddle up on the couch to snuggle and watch a cartoon before bed.  Cuddling on the couch is difficult these days because Cooper the Pooper Dog wants to jump up with us and act like a maniac.  Tonight he wanted to eat the boys’ animal crackers.  He was on a mission.  Brody was not a fan of Cooper behavior because Brody had decided that Cooper would be his fluffy blanket for cartoon time.  He wanted to lay on top of his fluffy blanket, aka Coooper.  So, he kept on smashing his hands into Cooper’s furry back and screaming…. “sweeeeeep Toopie…. sweeeeeep!!….. Waiz down Tooooopie, waiz down!!!!”  His feeble attempt reaped zero rewards, and Cooper never did become his fluffy, cartoon-watching, blanket.

This might not be the funniest story, but it is damn cute.  Especially if you could hear Brody’s adorable little voice trying so hard to say “Cooper” but all that comes out is “Toopie”… and the way that his words turn into choppy sentences that are just one step above gibberish, but I get him.  I understand him.  I speak his language.  And it is a wonderful language that he is teaching me.

This was taken a few days ago.  My camera happened to be out on the kitchen counter… which I am trying to do purposely these days so that it will remind me to pick it up more when we’re just hanging out around the house.  Brody sat on the counter eating a piece of pizza.  He sits on the counter all the time.  It is his thing.  He is always on the counter.  So I wanted to photograph how small he is, and how he looks perched up there in his spot.  But before I could take a step back to get the whole view of his size, and how dwarfed he is against the adult-size kitchen… he said… “Show you my muffles, Mommy!  Muffles!”  And then he growled as he flexed for me.  He had never before tried to show me his muscles.  And I have never seen his brothers pose like this.  He’s pure Brody… pure firecracker… and completely original.

How can three little people, who were made by the same two big people, be so incredibly different?

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