I was sitting on the couch which meant that C was sitting so close he was practically sitting on my kidney. He thinks both of our butts will fit on one cushion which is a lovely thought….that my butt is small. In reality we both don’t actually fit well on one cushion but he sort of wedges himself under me so that we both fit. I’m used to it at this point. I think he must think I’ll run away or do something super fun and if he isn’t directly on top of me he might miss it. I was about to get up so I had to shove him over so that at least half his leg was on the middle cushion. I ruffled his hair, kissed him on his bruised and bumped forehead* and said, “I love your guts” to him.

C: I love your poops.

Me: What! I told you to stop saying poop for everything.

C: I didn’t. I said I love your pooooops. ::::saying this loud and slowly as if I’m 95 and can’t hear::::

Me: My poops? That makes no sense. Stop saying poop. I’m getting up, move over.

C: No. Silly Mama! I said I love your boobs.

Me: Oh…well….er…….um….hmmmm……thanks?

C: You are very welcome.

Me: Ahhhhhh……well……ok……how about maybe next time we don’t talk about my boobs ok? Can you perhaps just love something else? My shining personality, my brown hair, my sense of humor….just, you know, something besides my boobs.

C: Of course I can. Say it again.

Me: I love your guts.

C: I love your prickly legs.

:::::sigh:::: Even when his dad isn’t home I’m still getting hammered about my prickly legs! I don’t see anything wrong with an every other day shave in the winter! Plus, I have only had laser treatment under my arms, not my legs, which I hope to have at some point. Until then I guess it is ok if he loves my prickly legs as long as he doesn’t say he loves my boobs in public. ugh.

*He has 2 knots, a bruise and some sort of scratch on his forehead. His shins used to attract this kind of wear and tear but now it is his forehead. It is like his head is too heavy for his body and just flops over and hits stuff. I don’t know. He got a knot at school yesterday and even his teacher was stunned. She said he never told her he hit his head on anything and he never cried. People must think I’m a terrible parent when they see his head. Maybe I should make him wear a helmet everywhere.


I should mention that he has had speech since before he was 2 so while I can understand him almost all the time there is still 2% of the time that I don’t really catch what he says the first, second, or twentieth time I have him repeat it.