To each his own.

The little guys have created have some very definite ideas about how they like to spend their days. Some are funny, some irritating, some just make more work for us, and some are downright adorable. Jonathan, at 3 1/2, is starting to be less "toddler" and more "little boy." He likes to emulate his 2 favorite characters (Diego and Dora) by wearing a backpack around most of the time. By most of the time, I mean all of the time. He sleeps with it, even. Usually he keeps only the essentials inside-- a book on firetrucks and another one on animals, and several handfuls of cars.
He also likes to be the boss. When he thinks Ethan is misbehaving, we usually know because he gets out his sternest voice and exclaims, "baby, go sit a chair!" or, "baby- go bed!" He is very keen on the idea that everyone must obey the rules, including the grownups. "Mommy, get out of the refrigerator!" He even follows me into the bathroom sometimes, congratulates me on a job well done, then stands there and reminds me to flush the toilet and wash my hands. I don't know where I'd be without him.
Jonathan is fascinated with shapes, and wants to know what everything is. I've learned that giving him fruit snacks no longer buys me the few moments of silence that it used to. He studies every shape intently, then asks me what it is. He wants to make sure I get it right, and when I don't, he teaches me what it really is.
Jonathan is every bit as stubborn as mommy when it comes to his recollection of the facts. He is never wrong. He will not budge, for example, on the exact name of a napkin. He always asks for "my face," which is probably my fault ("here Jonathan, wash your face"). Speaking of which, the kid can't stand to be messy. When he is finger painting, he will dip one little finger in, and can't wait to wash it off when he's done. A little bit of milk spills and he loses composure. "What a mess! You spilled it!" He then runs to get "my face" and cleans up the floor. Gutting his pumpkin last night almost reduced him to tears. He reminds me of Danny Tanner, to the extent that I wouldn't be surprised if I saw him trying to vacuum the vacuum cleaner.
Ethan, while nothing like his older brother, is just as talented at making me laugh. His newest activities include pulling off his left sock and shoe as soon as we get in the car (the right one is left untouched), watching you watch him throw something on the floor, then adamantly proclaiming that it fell, dragging a gallon of milk to you as a way of asking for some, and occasionally using the potty chair (which he insists on emptying himself-- I wish he wouldn't). Ethan also has a talent for pretend-sleeping. He turns his head to the side, squeezes his little eyes shut, and snores obnoxiously. When he's certain he has your attention, he throws his hands in the air, opens his eyes so they are as wide as his smile, and shouts, "hooray! It's me!"
Sometimes I worry I'm going to forget all the silly things they do. Like when Ethan randomly bursts into song (I'm the MAP!!" or Twinkle Twinkle, little Tar) or does a silly rendition of Little Bunny Foo Foo. Or when I get all dressed up and Jonathan gives me his best compliment ("You handsome, mommy, you so handsome!") Or the way Ethan plays "teek-a-boo" and Jonathan calls everyone he meets "friends." Or the way they both call each other baby. I find some consolation in the firm belief that part of being a good mom is forgetting things. Because honestly, if we remembered everything they broke and every time they embarrassed us, we might somtimes forget to love them to pieces. And really, that's the only part that matters.