Working Hard For The Money

I'm pretty sure that Jack is the hardest working little dude on the block right now (second only, perhaps, to the kid across the street who is still souping up his car. I have no idea what could possibly be left to do on it). People have started noticing his determination (and seem to love to comment on how I have my hands full -- do I look that exhausted and bedraggled? Okay, yes, yes I do. Chasing after two very fast, very climb-y, very mobile, very wiggly people is exhausting. And yes, I ordered cheese with my whine), including the woman at the playground this morning who was there with three  boys and still felt that his determination to get places was noteworthy and wanted to keep pointing it out to me. Like many of his second-born brethren, he is relentlessly happy (until he's very unhappy and then holy smokes you know it), and will fly under the radar until he's found total trouble. I don't know if it's a boy thing or what but I spend a lot of the day unplugging night lights, rearranging furniture to hide cords and outlets that I didn't even know they were there, putting cups and plates and pots and pans back intro drawers, and playing musical gates because every time I turn my back, he's into some sort of mischief. Molly is fairly reliable at letting me know when some stuff is happening but her tattling is most reliable if he's into her stuff (and then I certainly hear about that). Surprisingly, he really enjoys being in the stroller and will ride and ride (until the moment we stop when he wants out rightthissecond) checking out the scenery, listening to the medley of tunes from his warbling neighbor, and looking at every airplane and helicopter overhead. He is still a little flirt and loves to show off his tricks (so big, clapping, lifting his palms up when we say "what happened?" [this is my fave], saying kitty, waving, dancing, pushing all imaginable objects around the room, etc.) and has slowly started standing on his own . He also has been enjoying Molly's school as much, if not more, than Molly has. So many toys! and kids! and paint (grrr)! and room to roam! He wiggles his way out of my arms when we walk in and burns a blue streak over to play with stuff and does not seem to care one whit if I'm there or not. He is a hard worker, little Mr. Jack Peter, and I love all his boyish energy and industriousness.

"This plate looks mighty fine right next to this plate and those bowls and that cup..."

"Don't you agree, Mom?"

"I'll take this out and taste test it"

"and then I'll taste this one"

"Hmmm... and maybe this one too"

"Really, for good measure, I'll just taste them all (and then put them back in)"

"Wha' happened?"

"I'm going to clap for you, and for me, and for me, and for me"

"Guess what? I'm still SO big!"