I came across recently an old piece I wrote for one of my teacher newsletters (back when I did prep coverage). It goes back nearly five years. Maybe you'll remember it. If not, enjoy!

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What’s it really like being a teacher, you might ask? Imagine yourself as a cool celebrity. The kind who cannot go anywhere without being noticed. Well, teaching is a job for those who failed at real celebrity status, and so are desperately trying to get some of that pseudo-status. 

At the grocery store:

Child: “Look! It’s Mr. Millette!”

Mr. Millette: “Just uh getting some milk here to help my muscles out… *flexes slightly*… 2% for me.”

Child: “Wow!”

Next day at school, in front of the whole class:

Child: “I saw Mr. Millette at the grocery store yesterday buying milk!”

Rest of class: “Wow!”

Yep, Mr. Millette is pretty cool. He even drinks milk. I was thinking about just how cool I was to students one night. I couldn’t sleep because of it. That or I have a 4-month-old baby. Anyway, sleep wouldn’t come. Unfortunately, I had to spend the next day in Saskatoon with the family. While in Saskatoon our two-year-old John Paul, as two-year-olds do, picked the worst possible time to fill his diaper. Given where we were, I had to do a diaper change in the vehicle. I hunched over uncomfortably in the van. I dared not open the door since we were in a busy area of town, and didn't need any added attention (after all, you never know when a student might walk by). The van became a hot and sweaty box of tear inducing odour. I may or may not have passed out in the operation. But on we went. Tiredness is a funny thing. That is, you don't really feel like yourself. Whatever. I finished the diaper change. Back to our day’s adventures.

As we left one area of the city, we gave John Paul a bottle filled with juice. By the time we arrived at a restaurant we noticed his bottle was empty and John Paul was soaking wet! Arrgh. No change of clothes either. Whatever, it'll dry.

So, we went and ate. Afterwards we went to a mall to buy a few things and lounge around. When we got back to the van, we noticed John Paul was really wet. Like soaked. Even my wife, Becca, and I, who had carried him around a bit, were a little damp. What the heck! How much juice did he spill!?! This was crazy. Becca suggested I pull off his pants to let them dry. He could make the drive home in only his diaper. I started pulling his pants off. Curse his tight-fitting clothes! Those bodacious hips! Every time I kept pulling the pants down the diaper seemed to come down with them. I tried again. Same result. This was getting ridiculous. I looked over at my wife with a tired frustration. She looked at me with horror.

"He doesn't have a diaper on!" she screeched.

"What?!?"

My immediate thought was to ask why not, but then remembered I had changed him last, so there was only one thing I could say: "Well I put one on him! Don't ask me how it got off! Who did it?"

My wife didn't buy it. I guess it's come to the point where I'm that dad. The one who is so out of it that he forgets to put a diaper on a kid. So, we had pee all over us. We were even stepping in it. So what? John Paul ended up getting a brand-new pair of pants in the whole deal. And my wife... let's just say that if she ever forgets to put a diaper on a kid... I'll tease her to no end! So there! Yeah. Watch out. You'll be sorry you ever mocked one honest mistake.

Later that night I repeated to my wife the horror of the situation when I was changing him. The stench. The lack of oxygen. The uncomfortable positioning. I was a hero really. I didn't see her there changing him! How about a little sympathy here? To no avail. Apparently changing a diaper requires that the old one be, what's the word, changed for a new one. 

Details.

And, of course, the next day at school:

Child – “Mr. Millette your shoes are squeaky. Did you step on something wet and sticky?”

Mr. Millette – “Uh… yeah… must be just milk… 2 % you know.”

Child – “Wow!”

If they only knew the real Mr. Millette. Yes, the real me. Diapers and all.

Or even no diapers and all.

John Paul's Big 5

We have a 5 year old in the house! Wowzers!

On Tuesday night, the kids wanted to watch Dan decorate the cake (it's a great arrangement: I bake, he ices, when it comes to complicated designs like this). They could not for the life of them figure out what he was doing, until the very end, "uh, is it a goalie mask?" And still, it didn't become clear why to John Paul until the next morning when he opened his present.

He spent some time in the morning eagerly waiting for Joseph to be done school, so we could all go take shots on him in the basement. Then he dressed up in Joseph's gear.

Besides all his hockey dress-up, John Paul spent the day in a shirt and tie. Very classy!

We had a birthday party with a bunch of friends at the pool a day early. The water was awesome and the kids had so much fun! Lots of snacks and cupcakes. 

John Paul, at five, is a cool kid. With a twinkle in his eye and a stellar grin, John Paul brings a whole lot of joy to our house! We can't wait to see what five brings. 

An eager-beaver, John Paul has a ton of incentive. He's amazingly eager to help out around the house, do his "schoolwork," play with his sister, and make everything a competition. Often he will come to announce that he's tidied the whole house all by himself. And he loves to think he does a better job at sweeping the floor than Joseph (mostly true). Many mornings, he'll sit right down and finish pages of printing - even before I have a chance to "introduce" a letter or remind him to start his letters at the top. He now corrects Joseph on a lazy pencil hold and exhibits his own to demonstrate. Of late, he will yell out the answers to math facts (9+ facts? He's got 'em!) before Joseph has a chance to respond. John Paul is quick to pick up on memory work: Joseph's poetry memorization, provinces/capitals of Canada, math. He's less inclined to be the center of attention and begin reading or his own poetry, but I'm sure that will come. For now, he's content with choosing his own achievements.

Stuck between a dominant older brother and attention-seeking little sister, he holds his own with bursts of frustration and yelling (fighting if necessary). Ever a little firecracker, he keeps us on our toes disciplining and correcting. But although he's one tough guy, he thrives on morning cuddles with mom and reading stories. He's sensitive and thoughtful. He is very excited at the prospect of a new baby and keeps complimenting me, "Mom, you're getting fatter. That's our baby growing!" In public, John Paul will strike up conversations with total strangers. He wanders around after Mass helping the lady who tidies the altar and sacristy and chatting all the while. True to form, it's got to be on his own terms. Facetime with family is always a hit and miss and he never wants to talk on the phone. If someone talks to him and he's not impressed, he'll shut himself up. He's got his own idea of everything and never afraid to voice his opposition; case in point: he went to bed early for yelling "no" and refusing to obey last night. He's his own little boss.

Five will bring lots of new opportunity: learning "real" school, biking, swimming, and other activities, new baby life... With Joseph, five felt like such an amazing jump into big kid life. John Paul's enthusiasm and joy for life is going to be so much fun to watch as he takes off this year as a big kid!

Gotta be 3

"Mom, I'm three now and I'm almost five!"

Our little firecracker, John Paul, turned three this week and woke me up on his birthday morning to tell me he was almost five.

This boy brings a lot of crazy and a lot of fun to our lives. He does nothing by halves; it's all or nothing. He's got a mind of his own and a stubborn streak to go with it. He's hopping around with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face or he's a foot-dragging, pout-sporting miserable grump whining for attention. His highs are so high, his lows are so low.









John Paul is a delight and a challenge that we are grateful for every day.

Being the middle child is a hard gig. It's easy to see how much of John Paul's difficulties in life are "inflicted" because he's the middle one. But the beauty of a growing and biggish family is that they all learn from an early age that sharing and caring are just the way things roll. John Paul, understandably, has a little jealousy for his sister who takes up so much of his mommy's lap and time or his brother who gets lots of school attention and constantly interrupts him. Despite that middle-child syndrome, he takes it all in stride and for a kid who frequently gets shushed and booted off a lap, he has a lot of good-will and never holds a grudge.

John Paul did a lot of learning and growing up this year. He got the 3-days-or-bust potty-training treatment and came out with mostly flying colours. He takes himself to the potty and only occasionally has the odd accident when he just doesn't make it on time. He learned to dress himself recently and just needs help with the socks and sometimes correcting the right way around on clothing. He has learned colours, numbers, the alphabet, and lots of kindergarten-level school. He knows how caterpillars become butterflies and some of the 10 Commandments. He knows all the words to Mumford and Sons songs, Colplay, Veggie Tales, and can repeat many priest/congregation parts from Traditional Latin Mass.





For John Paul's birthday, his Millette grandparents gave him a little Mass kit. He is thrilled and has been reverently saying Mass and Adoration every day since. I guess you could say, John Paul got "Mass-trained" this year too. From a crazy, bolting, talking toddler to a much quieter, book reading, consecration watching, wannabee-altar-boy. We attend the Saturday evening Mass at our parish and in the last two months, John Paul even fell asleep a few times during the homily. This would never have happened to baby or toddler John Paul.

So holy, so reverent. Sometimes.

John Paul has a warring affectionate-repulsing personality. He's a man of few affectionate words. If asked, he will say he doesn't love you; if you say you love him, he doesn't say anything. But just let him show his love and he is a rambunctious cuddler ready to smother Mommy and Emilie with affection.

Everything has to be on his terms. Offer him something for a snack and he will say "no"; wait a minute and he'll ask for what you just offered him. (We're working on it).

John Paul loves to read books and will sit for long periods of time all by himself reading. He loves Lego and will come up with impressive little boats, towers, or crazy inventions. He loves to colour and does it carefully inside the lines, but doesn't care at all for true-to-life colour usage (we are also mostly convinced he has some kind of colour blindness to red/green which makes things very interesting!).  

He's a talker and always has been. We've been working on the "th" sound and John Paul's been very proud to say the Hail Mary with all the thees and thous. But we're still waiting for the "r" sound to come along and until then it makes life interesting to sometimes figure out what "wong way" and every other "r" sound weally mean. 

And while he's been talking for what seems forever, he still mixes up or makes up funny words. This morning... "I got up with Daddy; Emilie got up with Mommy; Joseph got up with Anybody." Sometimes I swear, we have another person in our house named Anybody. But Joseph likes to correct me that John Paul just means "nobody".

John Paul literally hops around in excitement every single day. The smile on his face, the twinkle in his eye, his crazy tongue that wiggles and sticks out when he's happy... he is one crazy little fella with a whole lot of spunk! Happy birthday, little man!

Music Monday: The Pirate Song

The terrible twos are over! John Paul has turned three! He came out of his room just after 6am beaming from ear to ear. What a guy.

Lately John Paul has been very involved when I play guitar or organ. He jumps around, plays along with his ukulele, and sings loudly. He's slowly beginning to hold a tune too. There is no replacing the enthusiasm of a little voice. One song he loves to sing is The Pirate Song.

I wrote The Pirate Song years ago. I seem to remember my little sister Lynda, when she was five years old, wanted me to write a song, and this is what came out. Well she just turned twenty, but the song still remains. Here's an original recording done many years ago. It's recorded in one of our rooms, with an old guitar, a key that is too high for my poor voice, and a few added instruments for good measure. In honour of John Paul and one of his favourite songs to sing, here is The Pirate Song:

He'll be working for SaskPower in no time.

The Boys Say Mass

 Becca's been sick the past few days. None of us have been feeling 100%. And the boys have been driving me nuts. Things had to change. Nothing like Mass said in your own living room to bring a breath of fresh air.

Joseph and John Paul decided to say Mass. They dutifully set up an altar, prepared bells and "holy things" (holy water, palms, rosaries, little icons). Joseph suited up in his chasuble (house coat). John Paul served.

A few pictures:

Consecration. Ad Orientem style. Well, liturgical east anyway. South in reality. John Paul rings the bells.

  Communion. Very reverent. He must learn it from me.

Both species, I guess. He must learn that from someone else.

 I'm slipping as a sacristan. I put way too many hosts on the paten. The boys take seriously GIRM 85: "It is most desirable that the faithful, just as the Priest himself is bound to do, receive the Lord's Body from hosts consecrated at the same Mass." So to avoid a large stash of hosts in the tabernacle, the boys stayed a while and consumed all of the hosts.


After the final blessing they processed out while singing Immaculate Mary. Joseph took his chalice et al. with him. He picks up on stuff from the Latin Mass.

 I think I'll have them do the same tomorrow. I'm sure it would fulfill our Sunday obligation. 

Our Little Baby

We have more pictures of our little baby. This baby is such a doll.


Perhaps our baby's favourite place to be is Emilie's chair. We frequently find him hanging out there.

He's also been known to climb into her car seat.

Frequently our baby demands: "Mommy, I hold you!"

You guessed it, getting ready for another change.

He loves to play in his old tub too.

Night time has been filled with the usual. John Paul tries to run away from the boys' room to join Mommy in her bed.

Of course, our baby loves to see his new sister.

And to get close to her.







 And to get too close to her.

 It's difficult learning to be a big brother. As I write this he is in his room screaming "Mommy!" and hyper ventilating. But someday I'm sure John Paul will be Emilie's knight in shining armour.

And she'll think he is the coolest thing.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

Kids say the darndest things. I wish we'd remember to write down all the things they say. The following is just based on my poor memory.

The other day as we were driving to Mass and Joseph complained that we always take the same road to get there. "Why can't we go to the church on a different road?!" I told him we could on the way home, but he would have to remind me or otherwise I'd forget. So Mass went along nicely. The boys were behaving well. I was impressed with their reverence and attention. After Communion Joseph and I knelt down together to say our traditional prayers together. We offer our intentions. Thank Jesus. Pray a Hail Mary and a St. Joseph pray for us. Joseph begins, ever so devoutly: "Hail Mary full of grace the Lord is with you, blessed... Dad! You have to remember to take a different road home! blessed are you..."

This morning Joseph woke up bouncing off the wall. He came running up to me with his now familiar: "Guess what!!!? I had the bestest dream ever!!!" What this time? "I dreamed I was putting stickers on Grandpa Millette's rink!!"

John Paul, when it's quiet at Mass, started singing loudly the song he and Joseph made: "Big fat jolly good baby!!" Who's kid is this?

Joseph and I were working out together in the basement. He looked up at my jersey hanging on the wall and asked why I didn't wear it. I said I liked to look at it on the wall when I worked out. He then repeated to me that a real Roughrider wore the jersey. I said "yep, he wore it last year in a real game. But then I bought it for 50 bucks." Joseph just nodded his head and replied: "Yeah, the Riders sold it because they needed 50 bucks. They were happy with that. They needed the 50 bucks so they sold it to you."

- - -

There are so many aspects of parenting that are beyond funny, but are completely inappropriate to share with the public. Well I'm going to break a couple of rules here and share just a couple of snippets. And they're tamer examples of life with little kids.

Caution: It's still rated R

John Paul has not mastered the English language yet. For instance, he cannot pronounce the 'k' sound. It comes off as a 't'. If he tried to say 'cat' it would sound like 'tat'. If he were to try and say 'kitty' it would sound like... you get the idea? Oh he loves to say 'kitty'. "Mom! you'se name our baby #itty!" Or, "Mom, see the big #itty!" Or, "I want #itty!" Oh yeah John Paul. Let's hope he learns to say his 'k' soon.

John Paul, though a devout lover of the Traditional Latin Mass, still has a soft spot for the sign of peace at the Novus Ordo Mass. He extends his hands and out to everyone and says, instead of peace: "Piss. Piss. Piss."

Anatomy is always fun. Of course John Paul is adamant he doesn't have a cute little bum but a "big bum!" It turns out he's confused about which side of the body the bum is on, the front or back. Becca: "Do you have a big bum?" John Paul: "@$$!!!" (yes!). Becca: "Where is your big bum?" John Paul points to the, er, front of his body: "Here big bum!" Points to his actual bum: "Here cute little bum!... Joseph have big bum and cute little bum too!"

Joseph was walking heading out the door one day so I asked him what he was doing. He replied with an obvious voice: "I'm going outside to pee."

Then he said to me a couple of days ago: "Dad, do you want to go pee outside too?"

And then John Paul yesterday, apparently takes note of Joseph at his pee "spot" outside, says to me: "Joseph pee wif finger! YEAH!"

Oh those boys.

 Joseph before Mass. He insisted on a tie.

John Paul crashes the picture session.

And then Joseph jumps on me and shouts: "Selfies!" And here they are.

Snippets: April Recap

1. Until last week, I had no April folder for pictures because I just hadn't taken any pictures this month. What's the point of having a nice camera if you don't use it? Dan's thinking this as he reads it. 

2. I turned 30! Wow, crazy, unimaginable! Once upon a time, I thought that 30 was grown up and people who were 30 must have their lives all in order and everything figured out. Hmmm. By all appearances, maybe I/we are grown up: homeowners, parents to three, responsibilities and bills to pay. But seriously?! I don't feel that old. Like, as old as I once thought 30 was. 

2. I was 30 weeks pregnant the week I turned 30. And now I'm a whopping 33 weeks! The countdown is on, sort of. Feeling huge and knowing I'll be getting even bigger. I've been trying to stay off my feet a little bit to stave off a hip instability that's a pain, literally. This means trying not to be on my feet all day long. Varied success. I'm not a natural couch potato.

 

3. Dan is finishing up his last week of crazy-busy after school activities this week. With his catechism kids receiving their sacraments this weekend, we'll be in the clear for seeing Daddy a little bit earlier in the day and on weekends. Yay! Joseph and John Paul alternately say at various points throughout the day (or even seconds after Dan has left after lunch) "I miss Daddy!" or "I'm miss Daddy!" (John Paul's words). But, the countdown is on until the end of the school year and Dan still has lots to do before baby arrives sometime in June. 

4. We got to hang out with all the Millette side cousins last weekend for Grandma Millette's birthday. Joseph has decided that "Cousins are friends and friends are cousins." Also, that he wants to visit with all his cousins way more than we actually do. 

The "big" kids gathered swords, water guns, and sling shots to "hunt the wolf" (otherwise known as friendly Emma, the dog). This, after the boys tried capturing and attacking the girls. They were easily convinced that the girls needed protecting and could be allies. Emma was thrilled with all the attention. 

Meanwhile, the "little" kids sort of joined in on the fun and smiled awkwardly. Actually, John Paul loves, loves, loves all the attention he gets from his big girl cousins. He cried when he had to go home and leave Marie (10) and Claire (8) behind. We sure could use a big sister over here for a few months, just sayin'.

5. We've been having some great weather of late. In years past, we've been known to still have snow at this time of the month. But it's been gone for a while now and winter clothes packed away. We've had shorts out on a few occasions, but mostly still long-sleeves or a bunny-hug. We'll take a bit of global warming in this province. 

Joseph's new favourite activity is to use the old stroller as some kind of self-motorized vehicle and roll himself around. 

And John Paul runs and runs. I can't get him to hold still for a photo, never mind look at the camera and offer one of his beautiful smiles.

6. Joseph quotes:

Joseph: "Have you ever had a 5-year-old or a 10-year-old before, Mum?
Me: "Um, no..."
Joseph: "Well, you're going to have those kind of old year-olds soon!"

7. John Paul quotes:

John Paul: "Mommy, you not Dod... Daddy, you not Dod"
Me: "Who is God?"
John Paul: "Dod!"

Every time we're ready to pull out the driveway in the van: "Read roll, Mum? Ready rock, roll?"

O My Son, My Son, Pick up Your Toys

I am at war with my son. We have a deep and bitter feud which, at the moment, appears irreconcilable. His attitude and I-alone-am-the-Boss mentality reminds me of Absalom of the Old Testament. I am
David. Attacked by my own son. My own traitorous son.

O my son John Paul! My son, my son, John Paul! 

I don't know how it all started. Perhaps it was the fact that he sent me packing out of my own bedroom long ago. Or simply that he just turned two.
Whatever the reason, it all came to a head Saturday night at Mass. He started acting up in the pew. Later at the back of church he started running around and wrecking everything he could. When I told him to stop he looked at me, rather smirked at me, right in the eye, and spoke a forceful: "NO", before going on his way. I, like a good father who pretends to be in charge, went after him. Somehow or other we ended up in the basement of the church having a tussle.

Yesterday he was out playing in the backyard. There was a puddle that caught his fascination. Becca called the boys inside. One boy came. The other stood in the puddle and hit it with a stick. When I went out to call him I was given the familiar look in the eye and the forceful: "NO". Oh he came in eventually. It involved me holding him, like how a bear holds onto a fish fighting for its life. I'm surprised the new neighbours haven't moved out yet. Although our old neighbours used to tell us we were entertaining.

Once inside more kicking and crying ensued. After calming down in his room he was told to say sorry. He looked me right in the eye and retorted: "NO!" He was sent back to his room crying. Again he came out later, and said: "NO!" Five times this occurred. Eventually he spoke a quiet, meaningless "sorry" before coming to eat. At supper he threw his carrot on the floor and demanded more meat. Three times he was rebuked. Eventually he ate his carrot and was given his sought after meat. After one forkful of meat he then demanded more carrots instead.

It's a feud to be sure. I will not break down. He'll thank me when he's older, if I live that long. A stubborn boy. I console myself with the thought that he probably takes after his mother's side. But the fight continues. Everything is a power struggle. Be it such unreasonable tasks as a diaper change, picking up a toy, or not walking in the middle of the road. Joseph must love it. He looks like the second coming of St. Dominic Savio as compared to John Paul. Don't worry, it's just a little war. This too shall pass


I came home today to Becca working in the kitchen, Joseph quietly colouring, and John equally quietly destroying the house. When it came time for him to clean up he instead ran away to the bathroom and started emptying the drawers. More discipline ensued. I discipline kids all day, I shouldn't have to discipline when I get home! Right!? Later when we went out for Mass he demanded that we go to the Latin Mass in Saskatoon instead. We told him maybe on Sunday. "No! Not MAYBE... Now!" His desire for the Latin Mass is charming. His method in demanding it could use some cleansing.


Although I may be tempted to think we've crossed the Rubicon in our fight with this boy, there is still a glimmer of hope. Tonight as Joseph, John Paul and I engaged in one of our wrestling fights, John Paul threw himself at me as he always does. He fearlessly punched at me as I held him in a bear hug. Away we fought. But then he paused for a second... looked me right in the eye, smiled, and kissed my cheek ever so sweetly. We then went back to our fight.

O My Son, John Paul, My Son... 

... would that you would blow your nose before kissing me on the cheek.

Somehow he always wins.

Being 2

Two is such a hard age. I'm pretty sure John Paul believes none of us know just how difficult it is to be two. 

Two is all about attitude and letting the world know you are not just part of your mom. It's all about asserting your own will. It's emotional and messy.

It can also be adorable and hilarious. 

See, emotional!?

Fun. Playful. Happy and alone. As long as he remains alone with that dozer. What's with the imaginary stuff in his hands? What's he saying? No clue.

JP: Put baby on couch, Daddy. 

Daddy: Put baby on couch? What if the baby cries?

JP: Put baby in ________ 

Daddy: Really?

JP: Yeah. Eat chili in mine bowl.

Daddy: Is the baby going to have a beard?

JP: Uh... No, I'm have beard. 

Joseph: It's a mustache and beard.

JP: Moostache *laughs*

Daddy: Mustache?

JP: Daddy have mustache.

Daddy: Daddy have mustache? 

Joseph: You have one right up there. (He does not)

Daddy: Is it orange? Where's your orange mustache?

I'm Doow

He can count to fifteen, no sweat. He tells everyone, "I'm five!" He asks for "Free (3) mitamins (vitamins)" everyday. But truthfully has no clue what any of these numbers really mean. When I give him his one vitamin, he runs off happily. But John Paul has indeed turned 2. And we're slowly switching him over to saying, "I'm doow!"

 

If ever a kid had a roller-coaster emotional personality, that kid is John Paul. His highs are so high and his lows are very low. And regularly there are milliseconds between those highs and lows. (Maybe, hopefully this is just a symptom of being two).

Mostly, John Paul's personality centres around his chatterbox. We're told he surpasses his age in his ability to talk, but truthfully who knows. But he does talk. A lot. All the time.

In addition to repeating everything Joseph says, just in case we didn't hear it the first time, John Paul loves to repeat anything remotely funny (or not) ad nauseam. Stuff like "ketchup fart" become the most hilarious things. Oft repeated phrases include, "Want _____ (cereal/milt, watch Thomas, etc.) NOW." Anything worth saying is worth saying emphatically. And he issues demands like a dictator.

John Paul's vocabulary has as sweeter side too, of course. "I'm like you!" he repeats often, cuddling up to me. He also really likes M&M's and juice, though, so I'm not quite sure where I stand on the totem pole.

He has recently mastered his own name. For a long time, he called himself "Paul," but in the last week or so he's come out with "Jun Paul" and is incredibly proud of himself. And since he knows who he's named for, he often tells us he's "Pope Jun Paul!"



Our kids are currently on a huge Thomas the Tank Engine and Veggie Tales kick. It's perfectly normal to hear Joseph ask John Paul, "Do you want to sing a whole Veggie Tales CD?" And they do. Or for John Paul to request us to join in with his singing of "Bump, bump, bump, bump" otherwise known as the tuba prelude to the Veggie Tales theme song ("If you like to talk to Tomatoes..."). Another favourite is Barbara Manatee, when John Paul likes to repeat Bob's line, "What doing Laylee?"

During Holy Week we watched part of the Ten Commandments with the kids. Ever since, there's been an ensuing argument between Joseph and John Paul over who is stronger, Moses or Joshua. Emphatic as ever, John Paul insists "Moses strong Joshua."

Just recently, John Paul has begun to play and entertain himself. It's both a blessing and curse. As long as he's left uninterrupted he will play happily, lining up Magna Tiles, or driving his favourite little concrete mixer and other machines. All HE-double-hockey-sticks ensues, however, when Joseph breaks in to show him how something's "supposed" to be done.

We bought John Paul some toy food for his birthday. One of his favourite past-times is pulling out utensils and pots/lids/containers from the kitchen and cooking up food. Not only do we now have the advantage of someone to bring us food whenever we're hungry, but we can just eat it right off the living-room floor where it has taken up permanent residence. That is to say, he loves it!

On one hand, John Paul has been an incredibly difficult child most (all) of his short life. We've often joked that perhaps we should have given him a patron saint with a little less temper and clout in Heaven; maybe then he wouldn't be such a determined and obstinate child? But with great sacrifice (on our part) comes great reward. He is so full of life, laughter, and personality. He keeps us on our toes and laughing openly or trying to stifle laughter at his craziness. Joseph and John Paul, despite the obvious quarrels of normal brotherly love, are the best of friends. 

We all love this little man so, so much! Happy birthday, little "Jun Paul." 

Separated at Birth?

Well, John Paul has been a little too bossy lately.

I think a hair cut might be in order for John Paul soon.