Exactly how old is he...really?


I'll admit my mind has been a little less...should I say...sharp lately, and I've had more moments than I'd like to come clean about where I just want to sit in an empty room and not think at all. But in spite of all of that, I'm still pret-ty sure of that fact that my son was born on February 27, 2007. That would make him exactly 3 years, 2 months, and 29 days old (I even counted it up on the calendar before I started typing...so I know I'm right).


If you listen to his vocabulary and the things that have come out of his mouth recently...one might think he was 23 instead of 3. I mean...I know how old he is. I don't doubt his age for a second. It's not possible for me. And, on yeah, his size kind of gives him away too. But listening to this just blows my mind and makes him sound so grown up...

To a friend at school: "You're getting on my nerves." (Niiiice one, Buddy. I'm sure right at that moment your teachers started questioning all the good marks they gave you for being a good friend.)

To my Mom last week during her four-night stay: "You're cracking me up, Gwanmaw!"

When he got upset about who knows what (literally, I have no idea...this is one Jim and I both heard from the other room): "I've had enough! I'm freakin' out!" (And I won't say who he might have gotten that one from. Ahem.)

To his teacher at school while he was "reading" a book to her: "Don't turn the page, Ms. Diane! You got to be patient!"

When I asked him to stand up so I could bathe him really good (you know...get in all the cracks and crevices of his little body): "Well, you got to give me a second!"

and last but not least...

When he came into our room at 4:45am yesterday and I asked him what he was doing in our room, he replied: "I can't sleep." (Me either, Babe. Especially now that you're in here nudging your feet into my back. So why don't we just have one of these nice adult conversations that you can carry on so well. Sigh...)

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