My Buddy and MEEEEEEE

You guys remember that song? If not, save yourselves and DO NOT google it. If so, I hope you cherish that earworm for the rest of the century.

Aren't they just totally stinking cute though?

So anyway. I started this post many days ago - not sure how many, but I'm sure that when I post this little bloggerism the date will remind me. What I meant to say those many days ago, is that Iris loves her new brother. She wants to hold him all the time and literally grips him to her body when he starts to get fussy there on her lap and I need to take him away for a little snack or whatever.

What she hates is her newfound lack of attention, or at least her lack of immediate attention when she wants something rightnowmom pweees pweees pweeeeeees. It's really sad, because it always ends in massive big fake tears, which turn real pretty quickly. Not a lot can be done, even for the real ones, when you're stuck in a chair nursing an almost asleep newborn. She had her share of potty accidents (only three, then the reemergence of super-bribery-by-candy happened), she had her big fake fits over anything she could think of (I want toast! Is presented with toast. NOOOO I don't WANT DAT! WHYYYYYYYYY?), and she has of course entered the land of inappropriate laughter in the face of confusing challenges (baby is crying, poop spewed so far it hit the wall, nobody is directing attention Iris' direction: freak out). Okay, I might have injected some inappropriate laughter in that situation had I been in her shoes, so that can be forgiven...

Okay, obviously they can all be forgiven, since she's TWO and everything. Two year olds get an out for purposefully incendiary behavior, since they are only doing what they know how to do to get the kind of attention they need. She has peppered various encounters with questions like, "Mommy, you happy now? You not angry?" Oh, jeez. Just stab me a little more with your big sad guilt trip face. I teared up a bit and meant to ask Kyle about it in private, when, in front of friends, Kyle said: "We should compare notes on what she does to get out of bed time. She asked me for water, and to go potty, and told me her tummy hurt, then she asked me if I was going to yell at her." Oh. So THAT'S how it's gonna be? Captain Manipulation, thy name is Iris.

Still. Two year olds are babies who need lots of hugs and patience. Even the tall ones who look like four year olds and even talk like them too. Ack.

Things are much better today, and I expect will be better tomorrow too. We're getting there, and oh, by the way, did I mention that Cormac is the sweetest, most easy going baby ever? No? The easy ones always get ignored, man. More on him later (the neglect! It's already happening!), but right now I need to polish off this box of wine that Grandpa R. so thoughtfully got going for me last week (Franzia: It's a family afairrrrrr), and also address my weird love of parenthetical commentary today.

P.S. The Franzia: THANKS GRAMMY K!