It is ca-razy to me that 6:40AM feels like over-sleeping. That’s just nuts! But it’s true; I did let myself sleep in. I’ve been doing a fairly decent job of getting myself to bed earlyish so that getting up by 6 wouldn’t be torture. Yeah, it’s still torture. I have the utmost respect and empathy for those that do this everyday for a “real” job. (Like, grown-ups, I mean).
A couple Matthewisms for you:
A while back, we were getting out of the car and Matthew started whining. He said that his leg was “full of sand.” It took a while but eventually Mike deciphered that what he meant was that his leg had fallen asleep. This morning when I first woke up at 5:30 (and quickly decided to go the heck back to bed!), my arm was totally and completely asleep. I noticed that – while I’ve never actually had sand in my limbs – it really felt as if my arm was full of sand. The child is very bright.
The child is a little too bright. Yesterday, the boys were wrestling on the floor. Here is my recent observation: our boys get along swimmingly as long as there are no toys or inanimate objects what-so-ever involved. Throw in a toy or something random – say, a sock – and eventually they will fight over it. We may just sell all of our material possessions in order to live in peace and harmony. Their favorite brother-bonding activities are: running around and around and around the kitchen-dining room-living room loop (especially when chased by Mommy – that makes it way more fun), playing hide-n-seek (especially looking for Mommy together and then screaming shrilly when they find me), pulling all of the sofa cushions down and pole-vaulting themselves on to the floor or doing head-first somersaults on to the soft padded landing, and finally wrestling. It should come as no surprise that Zach is usually the initiator of a wrestling match. If anyone dares sit or lie down on the floor he/she will immediately be sat upon. So, half the time I glance at the boys, Zach has Matthew in some sort of choke-hug-hold.
Yesterday, to my surprise, Matthew was the wrestly one. Matthew was holding Zach around the middle and Zach was lying there going “hug…hug…hug…” probably wondering when the super-long hug-fest would conclude. After a bit Zachary started to whine – not cry (yet) – I saw that Matthew had maneuvered himself to be sitting/clinging/hugging on to Zach’s back. “Matthew,” I said, “that’s enough. You’re too big, and Zach’s starting to say he doesn’t like that. That’s what that noise means. Matthew! You’re squishing him! Get off please!” (OK, probably in real life the please didn’t happen, but we’ll pretend that I’m still a polite mother most of the time). Matthew – without moving a muscle – looks up at me and says, “But Mommmmm, Zachy’s is a turtle with a Matthew shell!”