He Giggles in his Sleep

Shane's turn....

I feel like the kid is always shortchanged when I'm sharing silly stories about the boys. Bobby's precociousness and overgrown self esteem provides pages of funny material for my writing. Then poor Shane is left in the background. Maybe it's because Shane is more cautious, more affectionate and cuddly...how much can you rave on about that, you know?

Well, not today.

Shane has taken up the unfortunate habit again of crawling into bed with us before the sun comes up. I admit I'm horribly out of practice from those toddler daze when I marched him back to his own bed with his firm hand. He's just so darn cuddly and I generally enjoy it, as long as Robbie is already out of bed for work.

So as the gloomy day began this morning and I snuggled into his lanky body, just on the edge of wakefulness, Shane startled me awake by an attack of full blown giggles. That's not unusual, especially if Bobby has snuck into the bed as well and they are wide awake and telling gross, little boy jokes to each other as I will them to stay in bed a few more minutes. But this morning, it was just Shane and me (and the dog, of course), and the giggles were followed by a drawn out, sleep-sigh. Light snoring. The kid was dead asleep. So I watched him for awhile and his sweet little mouth, turned up in a smile, allowed a few more guffaws.

What a way to start my rainy morning of rushing two kids to two different schools before 8:30.

When I asked him what he had been dreaming about, I didn't exactly get the adorable response to put the finishing touches on my blog. He claims he was dreaming about poop and hot dogs.

Hey, he's still a gross boy and all that...

The Birthday Chatter Begins

He thinks I can just up and change the day I gave birth to him. Preferably to seven days from now. Mind you, his birthday isn't until the end of April. This is the sign that the Christmas giddiness is far behind us and he expects presents and excess toys to crowd me out of the house.

February has always been a relief to me. The stress of the holidays far enough to seem like a dream and the hectic springtime just a faint shadow on my horizon. Because when Bobby turns six on April 29, he'll kick off what I think of as birthday month--family birthdays crowded side by side like weary soldiers.

And he wants to change it.

I want to change his birthday!

The chatter is already beginning. Bobby wants a robot themed party at Chuck E Cheese. No wait, make that the park with a jump house and waterslides. No, scratch that. Now there is talk of kids in his class hiring a portable petting zoon (ah, think not!) or an old-school fire engine that drives right up to your curb where the kids can scramble in and out like sugar-drugged monkeys.

The birthday list begins. He wants a massive Star Wars lego set (I think not, I tell him. Take care of the legos you have because I'm sick of stepping on them with my bare feet. He wants a robot cake flanked with similar cupcakes.

And all I want is a couple months where I don't have to plan a blow out party or holiday event, where I don't have to make guest lists and budgets and all that.

Oh wait, I think it's time for me to buy those cheap valentines for the boys to pass at school parties.

Ah, it never ends...