Jude gets frustrated with us when we tell him he's funny. Or when we tell him he's cute. Or little. Or just about anything that doesn't begin with "big" and end with "boy." Somehow being funny and a big boy are mutually exclusive to him.
Kevin: "Jude, you are so funny!"
Jude: "Daddy, I'm not funny, I'm a big boy."
Wow, it's been tough the last few weeks with him. Jude is really testing us and trying to figure out how much power he actually has. Some days I really feel like I've reached the outer limit of my patience and grace towards him. He has even had a couple of royal tantrums--the kind that you don't think your precious little one will ever be capable of. I step back (mainly to avoid a heel to the teeth) and just watch him go and wonder where he learned to do that? Then I think about how it would feel to fall deadweight to the floor, thrashing against the Powers that try to thwart my plans (to make Pippin sniff my blanket), crush my deepest longings (to play with my trains until the wee hours of the morning), and impose their tyrannical will on me (to change my poopy diaper). Hmm... I'll let you know.
He is also full of surprises everyday. I just can't believe the things he says and where his mind goes. Nothing Freudian, and maybe not impressive to most people, but just that he is thinking of things that are beyond my suggestion. When we tuck him in at night we will ask him who he would like to pray for. I love hearing who is on his mind that day, it often surprises me. He is also playing make believe now, so fun to watch. Cue flying Thomas.
Here are a couple pictures of Wren. I realized that I have Jude pictures catalogued by month for the first year and a half of his life, like, "Jude 1 Month" and "Jude 13 Months". Wren's pictures so far are catalogued, as "Spring/Summer" and "Fall/Winter." Poor second child.