"You awake, buddy?" I'd ask through the monitor.
"Yes...."
And then I'd buy myself another 20 minutes while I cleaned up or finished my coffee. "I'll be right there, buddy. One second."
"Okay..."
Will doesn't nap anymore, but he does the same thing when we wakes up in the morning.
Now, Barrett. I know Barrett is awake from his nap when I hear soft thumping upstairs, followed inevitably by a cry from Neva as he chirps, "Hi, Neva!", and slams the door open. Then, every time, I hear the distinctive sound of two pellet-filled stuffed animals smack the landing at the bottom of the stairs as he throws down his "pets." Then, thump thump thump, down the stairs he comes, poking his head through the spindles to see if anyone is standing in the living room. "Peek-a-boo!!!"
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When William was two, and he needed to go poop, I'd sit with him on the toilet and patiently page through book after book until he was done.
When Barrett needs to poop, he announces, "I need go poop!"
I sit him by himself on the potty and he demands, "I want Thomas." When I set the Thomas the Train book in front of him on a little bench, he looks up and asks, "Can you go 'way?"
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When Barrett plays pretend, he holds his puppy, or Duplo guy, or pilot, or monster truck, or mouse, or whatever, and asks, in a soft, high-pitched voice (the voice of the character in hand), "Where my car?" and then, "Where my mom and dad?" They never wonder anything else.
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He can't pronounce his S sounds along with other consonants. For example, we were reading one of their favorite Lightning McQueen books, and he was so excited to read it that he murmured the title of the book (The Spooky Sound) as soon as he saw the cover: "The Bookey Sound." This morning I hugged him and he protested: "Don't 'queeze me!"
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I often hear him say to himself, "Howey Mowey!" (Holy Moly!) He also LOVES to sing and dance to music, and even when dancing to secular music he'll exclaim, "Ha-yu-yah!"
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Just now, as I was typing this (taking a break from a tough day and shoving the boys out of the kitchen as I drank an afternoon coffee), I heard Barrett ask, hands in the air, "Mom, where the drawberries?"
"They're in the fridge," I answered. "You can eat some green beans."
"Dey're all gone."
"Do you want more?"
"Yes," he answered, but at the same time, Will called from the dining table and the Duplos, "No, he doesn't."
"William! Yes!" Barrett retorted sharply.
"No, he doesn't," smirked Will, clearly antagonizing him.
"YES WILLIAM!" yelled Barrett.
"No, he doesn't."
"WILLIAM!" Barrett screamed. He shook his fist angrily in the air in Will's direction, almost instantly in tears. "MOM! William won't stop talkin' 'bout me!!!"
All this as I was actively getting him another bowl of green beans.
Barrett is a solid block of energy, personality, and impulsivity.
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