Brodyisms

I cannot believe it's Friday again. It's been a helluva week. A HELLuva week. But that's neither here nor there. Or it's everywhere, but I'm not blogging about it just yet. Nothing extremely bad, but some incredible frustration.

There are some very good, very good parts of this week.

Edited to add one more Brodyism that Sarah just reminded me about:

I went to pick up B from daycare the other day. He was about to go potty. He asked me to come with him, so I followed. In the potty room were two toilets, no stalls, with stepstools. And three girls around Brody's age. Two girls on the toilets, pants pulled down, skirts hiked up, going potty. The door to the hallway was open, and the teacher(s) at least one) were in eyesight of the kids at all times. Then the girls jumped off the potties, and Brody and the other girl went. The first two kids were now washing their hands in the sinks.

I'm sitting here stunned that we can all see (most) of each other's potty parts, and Brody and the girls (and eventually the two other boys who had to pee) could not care one whit. They were just going potty, talking to me about Santa Claus and snow, and they are all half-nekkid.

On the weekends, and most nights, Brody will say, out of the blue, "I wanna be nay-kid, mommy" and lift up his arms for me to disrobe him.

One day recently, the DirectTV repairman was on his way to our house. He had just called to confirm. Brody says, "I wanna be nay-kid now." I say, "Sorry, Brody, we have to wait. The TV guy is coming to fix the TV. We have to wear clothes."

B: (pouting with the big lower lip, looking down): I wanna be naykid.

He had to wait until the TV guy left.

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Tuesday morning, 5am, Brody walks into our bedroom.

B: Mommy, I hadda bad dweem.

Me: It's okay, sweetie. I'm here. Wanna sleep with us?

B: Yeah.

B climbs on the bed, J and I snuggle him in between us. He immediately falls asleep. I hear his even breathing, then I fall asleep. Ten minutes later, I wake up to shaking.

I open my eyes. Brody's eyes are closed, and he is on his back. Giggling. A silent, whole-body-moving, giggle. Then, with his eyes still closed, and still smiling,

B: I like dat.

More giggling. Eyes still closed. Then he stops smiling and giggling and rolls over, presumably to have another dream.

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Ninety minutes later, same morning.

I wake up to a softly whispering Brody. I look at him. He's laying on his back, eyes open, doing what appears to be "itsy bitsy spider" with his hands, and whispering something while looking out the window.

Me: What are you saying, Brody?

B: I'm just counting da twees.

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This morning. I am finishing wetting down his hair so it doesn't stick straight up. He says,

B: You pretty, mommy.

Me: Thank you, monkey. And you are beautiful.

B: No, I'm handsome.

Me: Yes, you are handsome. And beautiful, too!

We drive to daycare. While getting him out of the car, I can't help but say:

Me: Who's handsome?

B: (smiling) I am.

Me: Who's beautiful?

B: I am. then

B: Who's pretty?

Me: (shocked and smiling) I am.

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Hope everyone has a happy and safe weekend.