I love the idea of a lazy Sunday morning. I think about the boys piling into our bed while we dreamily snuggle. This morning started out a bit like that. Then Elijah started his “milkfrogging.” He breastfeeds one side, says, “udder yide,” and hops over, repeating that routine half a dozen times. Then Isaac pops his head up. Elijah greets Isaac, “Morning, Igick!” Then Elijah pounces on Ian’s chest, “Morning, Ee-yah!” Ian laughs and hugs Elijah tightly. Elijah screeches in protest, pulling away.
Elijah starts passing around kisses to everyone. Then, he lays claim to all the people, saying, “Dat my Daddy. Dat my Ee-ya,” and so forth. Isaac sits up with a stuffed cat and attacks his dad with it. Ian joins in with a plush Buzz Lightyear. In short order the fluffy toys are pooping on each other and screaming. Elijah fights back with his ferocious tiger face.
A side note about ferocious tiger face: Elijah is the only one with a truly ferocious tiger face. I fear losing a body part when I see that expression. The other two boys try to look scary, but it’s really just cute. See, Isaac will hardly ever strike out at someone, even if he’s being hit or having something taken from him. Ian will retaliate, and will sometimes be too amused to realize what he’s doing is driving someone crazy, but rarely will pick a fight. Elijah, on the other hand, seems to attack for sport. Perhaps it’s toddler curiosity. He will bop or jump on an unsuspecting victim and laugh at his or her yelps.
Back on the king-size bed, Brian and I find ourselves grimacing at each other from our respective pillows, as boys pounce and roar and tumble upon us. We ponder the notion that, perhaps if we had girls, we’d be getting our hair brushed right now. Meh. Boys rock.