Memories and A Photo Shoot

I have until the last chorus of Barney's "I Love You" song to blog. About two strains into Jay Jay, where we buckle up tight for a magical flight, Avery gets bored and wanders off for bigger and better things. I am both bigger, and better. If I type very quietly, maybe she won't find me. I come from a family of loud typists though, so that's probably not going to happen. Today's post was intended to be about a conversation I had with Ben yesterday. I took a reenacted picture of it this morning for purposes of captivating my audience and...well then it just turned into this adorable little episode of Avery posing for the camera and then a not so adorable pushing fight of who got to have their picture taken next. And yes it was a fight; Avery was pushing just as much. She was the first pusher.

Anyway, here goes. Yesterday I was standing at the bathroom sink brushing or flossing or applying or plucking and Ben came and stood next to me with a small pillow on top of his head. Not unusual, by any means.
See, it wasn't a contrived reenactment, totally appropriate.

He then begins an entire recount of something that I can't figure out, but is VERY detailed and specific. It goes something like this. "Remember when Daddy wore this hat and a black shirt and orange at the station in his red car upstairs?" He repeated several of those details; and based on past experience with this kid's insanely accurate and elephant-like memory, I was going way back in my mind to recall what he was talking about. Jay was nearby and I asked him if he knew what Ben was talking about. He did not. Ben kept repeating these details, with my encouragement because I was determined to make MY good memory work. He puts me to shame. I even started thinking of things Jay wore or did BEFORE Ben was born. Maybe he was looking down from heaven and recalling that. I'm not kidding, I was that desperate to recall and not be memory-upped by this little pachyderm brain. THEN he said something that suddenly brought it to my mind. I can't even remember what he said, but I suddenly realized the pillow "hat" on his head was Jay's black mortarboard, his "black shirt" was his black gown, and the "orange" was his golden tassel tassle hanging from his cap. The station was the building his graduation was held in, which he did drive himself to in his red car, and after walking down the aisle, he went up about 5 stairs onto a stage to receive his diploma. This was 13 months ago, when Benjamin was not quite 2. And not really talking either. Yeah, the kid's memory amazes me. My sister said, "Oh, I'm glad he's yours not mine!" and I said, "Whatever, I'm capitalizing on this for sure!" I'm not joking. We can teach him some obscure and meaningless lists of things to memorize and Letterman, HERE WE COME.

So, as I'm taking Ben's photo for this, Avery comes along and shoves him out of the way and starts chirping orders at me, complete with hand gestures. I'm sure she intended to be barking the orders, but she just has this tiny girly voice. I obliged.
Tell me this child isn't intended for the spotlight.
















I remind you, she's THIRTEEN MONTHS OLD.

Yesterday Jay plunked Avery on top of my big ol' exercise ball. She loved it and hung out there for nearly half an hour before she got plucked off to go to bed. I put her back on this morning to snap a shot of it, while Ben not so securely, held the ball still.

The wobbling and almost falling off made her laugh hysterically. I only wish that with this picture you could hear her shrieks of laughter that resembled a 1980 Chevy Citation trying to start in the dead of winter. Even Ben noted, "That sounds funny how she laughs."

Ben has started to back-talk a little. I ask him to do something and he says, "No. You do it!" He did it a few times last night and then again this morning. I said to him, "Ben, that's back-talking, and I don't like it..." He looked at me with his face all screwed up, because the face needs to do that to try and straighten out the screwed up statement that just went through his ears, and he says in a you-don't-make-no-sense-t'all tone of voice, "It's bag tacos ?" Yes Ben, I'm the one with the speech impediment.