Honestly, if he hadn’t fallen asleep this afternoon, he was going to find out what a 5:30 bedtime felt like. And if this nap doesn’t help things, he still might.
Phew. 3 years old is right around the corner, and I’m afraid I don’t like the glimpse I’ve gotten today.
From the “3 Year Olds Are Funny When They Aren’t Driving You Crazy” files, I have this from yesterday: Jack Henry is starting to realize that my mom died. We’ve talked about it a little, but he’s still at that age where it’s hard for him to understand that HIS Nana was MY mom. Randomly yesterday, he just piped up with, “Your mom died. She’s in prison.” I was like, “Well, yes, my mom died, but she’s in heaven. Is that what you mean?” He laughed and said, “Oh yeah, heaven.”
I said a silent prayer that he doesn’t just blurt out that his Nana is in prison to a stranger in the checkout line somewhere, because he is totally that kid.