I’m so glad my boys are friends. Really. I love the way they get giddy when they see each other after naptime. I love how much comfort they give each other when they are being babysat. I even love the WWE all over the living room. And although it drives me crazy, I love how Boy Blue follows Little Red everywhere, into mischief, into the bathroom, into timeout.
Little Red is developping cognitively in leaps and bounds these days. He’s already figured out that if I don’t respond when he calls me Mummy he might have a shot in calling me “Heather.” He talks to me in timeout all the time (and I try really hard to ignore.) Yesterday he even resorted to calling out to Angela because neither “Mummy” nor “Heather” worked.
These days the majority of timeout infractions stem from being too rough — we don’t push, we don’t hit, and we don’t stand on top of a couch cushion that is on top of your baby brother. Each time Boy Blue is the victim, yet as soon as I send Little Red to timeout the little one grabs a ball (or any other nearest toy) and follows Little Red to the corner. There he does everything he can to engage the culprit. Where there are no toys they sit and play with the doorstop spring.
For the little one, timeout is more painful than whatever the original offense, as he forgives so quickly. All he ever wants is to play with his brother. It’s so sweet. This time last year Little Red was telling me every day “Boy Blue is bigger now. Can he play cars with me?” I can’t believe he’s grown so much.