It was great having my sister stay with us last week. She was so great to have around with the kids. In fact, when Brandon saw this picture, he went up to our guest room to look for her. “Where’s Aunt Amber, mama?” he asked.
My neighbor asked about her, too. “How’d your pictures turn out on Halloween?” she asked. “I only ask because you were the only trick-or-treaters with paparazzi following you.”
You wouldn’t even recognize the me that existed when my sister was around. I was like Suzy Homemaker along with her help. One morning we made homemade donuts; the next: breakfast bombs (which is sausage, eggs, and cheese baked into a biscuit. Yes, it is bomb). I even finally inaugurated my CrockPot.
Holden and Brandon already have a special brother bond. Holden looks up to Brandon already, and laughs at his jokes and always wants to be near him.
Brandon already knows Holden better than I do. Once I fed Holden prunes and he scarfed them down (probably because he was famished) so I thought he loved prunes. I have tried repeatedly since then to get him to eat them. He gives me all the signs that he hates them: he spits it out, shakes his head. The other day, he even dumped the entire container out when I was turned away. This morning, Brandon just looked at me as if I was an idiot while I was cajoling Holden into eating prunes. “He doesn’t like them,” he explained rationally. Duh. Who needs baby books and parenting advice when you’ve got a two-year-old to crack the infant code for you?
This little guy’s top right tooth popped through those gums yesterday. He is one drooly boy. And a bit whiny, understandably, but still not nearly as crabby as I would be in his situation.
I caught Brandon reading while I straightened my hair. He looked guilty of something, as if reading is only for bedtime, not to be involved in morning routines. He doesn’t know that I read a chapter of a book each morning before coming into his room.
Holden’s last time in our favorite pajamas. I switched his clothes out into 12-18 month size today. Which, speaking of, we have 19 (yes, 19!) pairs of shorts in this size. What baby needs that many shorts? I’m sure Steve and I don’t have ninteen pairs of shorts between the two of us in all our sizes combined.
Brandon fell in love with the mini bananas at HyVee. He insisted on carrying them around. People marveled when he walked by. At the bananas it turns out, but I imagined it was at his adorableness. One little girl said, “Look mom, how cute!” and when I turned to smile at her and nod in acknowledgment and pride, she added, “those bananas are so small!”
I’ve known Brandon likes coffee for some time now. But it was only the other day that I discovered he is an addict. I smelled coffee on his breath and knowing there was no brewed coffee around, I demanded he tell me where he found coffee. He sheepishly led me to the pantry where I discovered he punctured K-cups with the Keurig machine and ate the grounds. Had to get his caffeine fix, I see.
Today we went to the bookstore to pick up If you Give a Pig a Pancake. This is the second time we have returned a book to the library that Brandon loved so much that I just had to go get him his own copy (the other one was Oliver by Syd Hoff in case anyone cares).
Brandon is the best little buddy there ever was. He insisted on exchanging hats the other day and I must say, he wears my hat better than I do (and his, too).
When I take pictures of Brandon, I get a lot of scowls, quick turnaways, and “no cheese!” protests. My sister, however, managed to capture a moment of pure joy. Pure joy. That’s what these boys are. I never knew it before them.