It's always fun to eavesdrop on Jake and Joshua. Their conversations, whether funny, sweet, or straight up ridiculous, provide an interesting insight into these two little men of mine.Joshua has been a funny kid to potty-train because his emotions towards the process go from hot to cold in mere moments. One moment he’ll be bragging to Baby Ella that he’s a big boy who wears real undies, and the next he’ll be pining for the ‘good old days’ when he could still wear diapers. A few days back, he was storming around the house muttering under his breath that he “hates potty training” and that he “wants to wear diapers again – even SOGGY ones.” (This made me secretly laugh. I couldn’t help it. What kind of two-year-old actually articulates, with clarity, the kind of diaper they’re willing to wear in order to avoid being potty trained?)
Jake, too, must have been listening to Josh’s lament; he encouraged his little brother with these words: “Josh, when I was your age, I had to learn how to be potty-trained too. We are so proud of you.”
My sweet Jake. Even though I know kids are typically just repeating things they’ve heard others say, I’m always heartened to hear them speak this way to each other.
***
A couple nights ago, after story time, I again heard Jake step into an older-brother role where he was encouraging and trying to clarify things for Josh.
Josh: I HATE Halloween!
Jake: Do you, Josh? Why?
Josh: Because I don’t like it. I hate it.
Jake: I think you actually like it, Josh. Don’t you like getting candy?
Josh: Yeah.
Jake: Don’t you like dressing up?
Josh: Yeah.
Jake: Then why are you saying you hate it?
Josh: Because I hate Halloween!
Jake: But you just said you like it, Josh!
And I think it was right about at that moment that the conversation turned argumentative.
***
Occasionally Jake will offer up a nugget of wisdom or some little life-secret he’s learned along the way.
Once, after watching a particularly tumultuous couple of minutes that involved disobedience, crying, discipline, and more crying, Jake gently offered these words of wisdom to his teary-eyed younger brother: “Josh, if you just learn to obey, your life will be perfect.”
A serious overstatement, but I understand what he was trying to communicate. (And just to be clear, this statement was original to Jake… we don’t make a habit of promising our children utopia if they simply learn to obey.)
***
The most recent conversation that struck me as particularly ridiculous was while we were in the car running errands. I’m driving, the three kids are strapped in the back, and I tune-in as the conversation unfolds:
Joshua: Where are we going?
Jake: To Walmart. I loooove Walmart. (He does. He’s classy like his Mom.)
Joshua: I don’t like Walmart. Walmart’s weird.
Jake: No it’s not. Don’t say that, Josh.
Joshua: Yes it is. I hate Walmart. Walmart is really, REALLY weird.
Jake: (getting angry) Josh. Stop lying. Walmart is NOT weird. You’re weird.
Joshua: (sensing the need for backup) Mom! Jake just said I’m weird!
Me: You know what, Joshy? You are weird. You are weird and wonderful. And Jake is weird and wonderful. And so is Ella and Daddy and Mommy. Weird is a good thing, buddy.
Joshua: (muttering, obviously incensed at my response) I am not weird. Ella is not weird. WALMART is weird!
Jake: (after a reflective pause) So, Mom? You’re saying that when God created us, he created us to be weird?
Hmmm… Not exactly what I was trying to communicate, but…
