Da Boys.

George is making a new face.  You have all seen it.  Remember?  That one I put on Facebook? That got 57 likes, a dozen or so comments, and multiple, face to face comments about how it nearly made you pee your pants, or that it's now your desktop background?  Yup, that's George. Ridden with personality.  He has really come out of his shell.  He is ALL OVER the house, getting into everything.  Seriously, since day one, our nanny, Kerry, would lovingly tell George to quit being so "nosey".  And now, he is so obviously nosey, doesn't even try to hide it.  He hears something, stares at it, then makes a face about it...he might have his mother's lack of a filter.  Most often it's this bizarre, pig nosed, possible raising-of-one-eybrow, stink eye kind of face.  But sometimes, it's a jaw dropped open, blatantly staring, blank look of wonder. Or confusion. Or fear.  Because, when a baby is sitting in the middle of the living room, while a linebacker of a toddler is running around the house, chasing the gangly, uncoordinated horse of a dog, with the large plastic dump truck, you can guess who gets hurt.  At least he joined in with the laughter at first, before he realized his proximity to the direct line of fire. And he has a right to be leery, see that scratch under his right eye?  You can thank Curtis, as well the the heel of one of my pumps.

George regularly laughs at Curtis.  He finds his big brother to be absolutely hilarious.  And too, too often, it is when Curtis is misbehaving.  I have a premonition.  This premonition does not bode well for anyone, except maybe those two little boys.  They are going to have a lot of fun.  A lot of memories.  A lot of wrestling matches [ending in injuries].  Pretty sure, Brock is going to be the oddball of this trio.  He is the oldest (and they are ALWAYS weird, duh).  He is further away, age-spacing-wise.  He is too caught up in his own little head, trying to solve all the world's problems.  He has bigger, better things to do, than join the debauchery of two little brothers.  He is busy.  Like always.  That is, until those two stumble upon something really interesting, like an object that makes a mess and a load noise.  Then, well, maybe he's interested.  In fact, maybe he needs to take over and figure out how to make the noise louder and the mess bigger, huh, amateurs.  He is a boy after all.

 

It is only a matter of days before George will climb all the way to the top of the stairs.  A matter of weeks before he begins cruising.  A matter of months before he is walking, then running, then talking, then behaving like a little boy.  For me, this process could slow down immensely, for him, those days could not get here soon enough.  He is not ready to run with the big boys, he screams like a terrified, little girl when he falls from the 6 inches that is a standing to sitting position.  He merely gets bumped and cries as if he had an extremely close brush with death.  I don't think he is being purposefully dramatic, like that middle child, I think he genuinely fears for his life on a regular basis.  Luckily, it does not appear he lacks tenacity - for this and his curiosity, he reminds me more of the Brockster.  We will see.  But as for right now, it's baby gate time.  Vacuum everyday time.  Make sure to pick up all the Legos and loose change time.  And, get all the snuggles in while you still can time, because he already dislikes being rocked to sleep.

OK...I'll give it to you one more time.