|grr. I fixed this in photobucket. it's still messed up. you get the idea.|
Don't get me wrong. James is a giant peach. He is snuggly and lovely and his cheeks, ohhhh man, those cheeks.
His sisters both love him. Really, they do. One of them is having a much harder time appropriately demonstrating that than the other. Three guesses which one...yeah. Gracie sees him open his eyes and oohs and ahhs and says, "ohhh, look at that little boy, he's so cute!!" and gently strokes his hair. Katie is...well. You know how you can't read the newspaper with a cat in the room because they will obsessively, compulsively step on it, knock it away, sprawl out in the middle of it? That's Katie. No matter what she's doing, if Jimmy is in my lap, she will fling herself between us, pick at his face, tug on his eyelids, pull at his ears, pinch him, poke him, try to kick and hit him. She cannot and WILL NOT be stopped without physical force. Time out has become a game for her. It's...a pickle. This morning, he napped in the pack n play for an hour or so after the girls woke up and she was her little angelic self, sitting on my lap, talking to me and telling me stories, snuggling up with me and watching tv. But the minute he woke up, it was the return of Angelica. Poor kid. It'll get better. Or, I mean, it won't, and they'll fight until one of them leaves for college. It'll EVENTUALLY get better, though.