Earrrrlllly yesterday morning, we had an ultrasound of baby numba three. I have somehow been labeled a geriatric pregnancy patient, thankyousokindly, so ultrasounds abound galore. The littlest Takle thought it fun to kick off of my uterus over and over again. He or she is an energetic one. I don’t think we make them any other way.
Which leads me to the 4 year old Takle. Big brother, self-appointed sheriff of the family, alerted me yesterday that Anna is hitting his first grade friends in carpool. I called the school to speak with Anna’s teacher who told me she is perfectly fine in her class (sans the panty-less day, of course.) She did, however, tell me that Anna likes to tell her friends, “My name is _____________” and then fabricate a new name. Her friends just cackle and call her by her new name. Anna’s teacher requested she simply go by Anna.
We instructed Anna on such, and to please, for all that is holy, stop hitting John Henry’s friends. Or else. She complied although she was highly disappointed that she could no longer be called “Miley” or “Melly.”
On a sweeter note, Anna completed an “All About Me” poster. One item read “I am special because ____________________,” and she had to fill in the blank. I expected a “because God made me” response. Instead, she finished the sentenced:
“I’m special because my brother protects me.”
He’ll certainly sell her out on hitting his friends. Because, what’s right is right and what’s wrong is wrong. But he stands with a ready sword to keep her safe. Well, with a blue light saber for sure.
Man, I love those kids. All three of ‘em.