I have been sorely neglecting to post about J lately, as you may have noticed. He's still very cute and sweet. He loves the baby (and likes to poke my belly and say "Baby in dere.")
He's way into airplanes. We just got him Richard Scarry's A Day At The Airport (thanks, Swagbucks!), and it's the new must read bedtime book. The other night after reading this book twice, then reading Goodnight Moon and then Woof's Bedtime (okay, gotta say, I don't know who would pay $122 for a children's board book, but that's what Amazon says...), J decided he needed some more stuffed animals in his bed. His bed is small, it's a toddler bed. So what did he do? He proceeded to carefully select every single stuffed animal he owns and pile it onto his bed, interspersed by things like "Oh, George!" or "Oh, Broncos Monkey!" and bringing them to his bed. I finally had to clear a nest for him in the middle so he would fit. I think my mommy authority was somewhat negated by the fact that after about 10 animals I was laughing too hard to sincerely tell him that was enough.