Admittedly, babies are pretty darn cute. Who else gets stopped at the grocery store just so a stranger can ooh and ahh over him and offer his mother unwanted advice.
I know it bugs young mothers, but I think it shows the importance humans place on babies when our elders think, "I don't give a damn how rude it is, I think that baby should be wearing a hat and I'm going to give his mother hell for it."
I have to admit, though, each year the boys get older, I like that age better. It's just so fun when they start talking about the world around them.
For instance, we were watching Lord of the Rings last night and I was like: "Wait a second. I thought elves were short."
Johnny answered matter of factly, "That's a myth, mom. Elves are actually normal height."
But there is one age I'd like to last an extra year: three.
Granted, it's a challenge. They're at the height of their terrible twos. They're supposed to be potty trained. They're starting preschool. It's the perfect storm. You're guaranteed a major disaster at some point during the year.
In other ways, though, three year olds are just beyond hilarious. For one thing, they'll believe anything.
For instance, I'm not condoning this, but Richie was eating a popcycle the other day, and J.J. said, "Where'd you get that?"
And Richie goes, "Oh, this? I got it out of the toilet. There's more in there if you want one."
When I walked in, the boys were cracking up because J.J. had, in fact, checked the toilet for a popcycle and was really disappointed when they weren't in there.
Also, three year olds are always up for anything. They're going swimming this weekend, so I got out J.J.'s lifejacket. I said, "I want you to wear this at the swimming pool."
He was like, "Why wait? I'll wear it right now. Heck, I'll wear it everyday of my life." And he put it on for the rest of the day.
Another thing that cracks me up is the bossiness. If I scold one of the boys, J.J. gets right on the bandwagon. "You know better, Johnny," he'll say, even though he has no idea what we're talking about. He loves when his brothers get in trouble. For him, its the best show in town.
Other times, he'll put his toys in time out. There'll be ten of them in there.
"What'd they do?" I'll ask
"They're in trouble," he'll say, as if that's reason enough.
In the park is the funniest. Some five year olds were giggling and saying he looked like a teddybear, which, frankly, is not the meanest thing you could say about a person. But to J.J., them's fighting words. He started pointing his finger and saying, "I'm not a teddybear! I'm J.J.!"
I think it tickled their funny bone to see somebody who, to them, looked like an angry teddybear, so they kept giggling. Then Richie stepped in and said, "Leave my brother alone!"
And they called him a teddybear, too.
And he called them chicken nuggets. And boy, it was ugly. I'm just glad I wasn't involved in the whole thing.
But the best part about three year olds is their laughter. If you laugh. They laugh. If you laugh louder, they laugh louder. And I've even found that if you do an evil laugh, they'll do an evil laugh, too. It has to be the happiest age ever.
Then they turn four and become very nice children, not bossy at all or tempermental or unreasonable. I always feel a little relieved, but a little nostalgic, too. There's just nothing like a three year old.