Recently seen on Facebook -- Jana edition

Will knows who the youngest one in our family is: Lego Barbera!

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It's going to be a long winter for Charlie. He gets cabin fever after being inside for an hour and seems to be terrified of snow. I had to carry him while I was shoveling to keep him from screaming. Yeah, that didn't work so well, but Scott did make it into the driveway at least.

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(On a trying car ride home from the UP) If there was an eject seat in this mini-van, I'd gladly risk hanging from a pine tree rather than be in this vehicle for three more hours. Sigh.

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Will informed us tonight: "I know what I'm ordering from Santa! A big box of joke items!"

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Not sure why, but we're attempting to take both boys to see Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs. We may clear the theater if they see us coming.

Recently seen on Facebook

Jana and Will have spent about 30 minutes trying to perfect Uncle Nick's Mii avatar, with many heated exchanges. One day into owning a Wii and we're already nearing an intervention point.

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Clary Vaughn got us a Wii for Christmas, awesome gift. Frankly, I'm alarmed with how good Jana and Will were at boxing right off the bat.

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Will's new favorite song: 8-6-7-5-3-0-9, although he's still having trouble remembering all of Jenny's numbers.

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On the way into work Will and I discussed tonight's Packers-Ravens game. After a brief Ravens scouting report, Will declared "Yeah, but they're not half as good as Duke!" We're getting there ...

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Walking into the dentist's office, Will says "Daddy, I see someone who looks just like you." The guy was probably in his mid-60s. His follow up was "Yeah, he's bald ... oh, I guess he doesn't look like you."

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Watching ESPN hoops with Will, who is chanting "We are! (clap clap) Penn State! (clap clap)" He really taking more of an interest in the ACC-Big Ten challenge than even I am.

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Will and I are playing Army at Grandma's. We set up a prisoner rescue scenario, and in designing the enemy's compound Will made sure it included a dungeon, "a meeting room, and a room where they make laws and decide what battle they're going to fight next." Is he watching C-Span when we're not looking? A very practical... enemy he's devised.

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Worked with Will on his Christmas list tonight -- with him doing the writing for the first time. So far, only Hot Wheels will be showing up in his stocking.

A little dinner conversation with Charlie

Scott took Charlie in for his 18-month Well Child checkup on Monday. He's shot past his previous 50th percentile to reach 83rd for height and 75th for weight.

It might have something to do with the fact that his 18 month checkup occurred after he was 19 months old, but Scott was so jazzed that I didn't have the heart to tell him.

Anyway, Charlie was not happy about the visit. He was still giving Scott the cold shoulder hours later and when Scott asked if he was mad because he had to get a shot, he nodded and said, "Yaaahhhh."

We tried to recreate it unsuccessfully, but here are a few videos from tonight's dinner. You'll notice that Charlie's pretty good with a fork, especially when he uses it to stab the table.

Recent pictures from my phone

A few recent Will-isms

"Mommy! My pimple got bigger today!"

"You have a pimple?"

"Yeah, you know the pimple in my eye. It got bigger today."

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We were trying to get out the door for work/school/daycare and Charlie wanted to be held. Will shakes his finger at him and says, "Charlie. Please stop. You know how hard Mommy has it with just Daddy and me to deal with."

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We've been out of town for two weekends in a row and the laundry has piled up a bit.

Will has some sort of aversion to having just one pair of jeans or just two pairs of underwear in his drawer. (It reminds me of how some people always have to have 80 rolls of toilet paper stockpiled in a cellar.)

Anyway, I had washed and folded a lot of his pants but hadn't put them away. I told him he could put them away or he could just grab them out of the basket.

I actually told him that about 10 times. He was not happy with my response. We were both upstairs and, knowing what I'd say, Will yells down to Scott, "Daddy! You might want to tell Mommy that she needs to put more jeans in my drawer!"

Tag, you're it

I was reading "The Mommy Book" to Will the other night when he noticed a tag I'd forgotten to remove on his new GAP boxers.

Shout out to Sharon, whose keen consumer eye found these on clearance at the outlet.

Anyway, Will is uber-sensitive to tags and, of course, wanted it removed immediately.

I only had a few pages to go. It seemed a shame to stop, go get the scissors and then finish the book. So I kept reading, "Some mommies drive motorcycles, some mommies drive mini-vans ... Some mommies work at home, some mommies work in big buildings ... All mommies like to watch you sleep ..."

"Mommy? Can you get the tag now?" he asked. Only two pages to go ...

Major wiggles ensued. Major whining ensued. Will suddenly looked like he was laying on a pile of needles.

I stopped reading and started to yank it out with my hands when Will said, "Mommy, shouldn't we do this the correct way? With scissors?"

Have to admit, I was a little stunned by the sudden role reversal.

"Will, I'm fairly confident I can do this with my hands."

"Yes, but you might leave part of it or rip my new boxers. Please get the scissors."

Major sighing ensued (me this time). I got up to go get the scissors and heard this behind me ...

"Some mommies are grumpy ALL the time."