I had to pee this morning, and I had an audience just as I've had (almost) every time for the past three years - one of the perks of motherhood. Quinn sat there and looked at me for a second and then said, Mom! Where's your penis?!
Gender identity lesson number one: Mommies do not have penises. Only daddies.
(Oh my goodness.)
He's such precocious little boy - always asking a million questions every day, pointing out minute details that most would miss.
I love putting him to bed at night. He always wants one more story, loves to snuggle and makes me run through a lineup of songs. Tonight, he had me go through the whole list -
The ABC's
Snowflake (from a YouTube video my mom introduced him to just after West was born)
Twinkle Star (Twinkle Twinkle Little Star)
Special Night Night Song (Powder Blue)
Angels (At the Gates of Heaven - a song my mom sang to us when we were young)
After we sing songs, I get a giant hug and a kiss, and then into his crib he goes. He lies down on his pillows, pulls his comforter up around him, and makes sure that New Donkey is on the right and Old Donkey is on the left. Baby Donkey is tucked in by New Donkey, and Puppy - he always wants him on the floor by the crib for some reason.
Mike also pointed out that the open end of his pillow case always has to be facing towards the wall.
Such a silly boy. No idea where he gets it.
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