I'm Going To Miss This

Every morning she sits at the coffee table on the little blue chair from my Grannies house, no p.j's on, eating a peanut butter sandwich and drinking milk while she watches tv.
We sing songs like Wild One and Firework and Take A Back Road and Need You Now, all day. And we dance.
She can't go near a pool without stripping down and getting in.
I used to be able to talk like her... you know, mimic the way she said things - like taint you (thank you) and peanit buttit fandich (peanut butter sandwich) . But she hardly ever messes words up anymore. Now she just says things properly.
She breaks off pieces of her toast and hands them to him.
He points for the things he wants and we can tell by the size of his smile when he really wants something.
She mindlessly brushes her hair out of her eyes.
I wake up to the two of them laughing hysterically in their room. It is truly the most magical sound to hear first thing in the morning and I wonder to myself how long they have been awake and playing together.
He tries to take her sandwiches from her in the morning and she just patiently holds them over her head without taking her eyes off the tv, until he leaves her alone. Sometimes she calls for help.
She defends her space when she doesn't want people in it. She defends his even more fiercely, like his protector. I hope this never ends.
She teaches him things, like how to say her name (he doesn't do it yet) and how to play peek-a-boo. He watches her with amazement.
She takes what he has. We make her "trade" rather than "take". He doesn't seem to care.
She rolls on him and pins him down to tickle him. The guttural noise he makes - it's hard to tell if he's gasping for breath or laughing. It's almost always laughing.
We look at eachother and say things like 'how did we get so lucky?' and 'they actually do love eachother'  and 'she is the best big sister' and 'our kids are so smart' and we wonder if every parent thinks those things about their kids. Of course they do.
He crawls faster when he knows we are coming and he's going somewhere he shouldn't. Like the bathroom.
He stands on his tippy toes to reach the mouse on the computer desk and the dvd player. He totally ignores us when we tell him to stop. Selective deafness, he has it.
She asks close to a million questions, all the freaking time, about every freaking thing. 



She is almost always naked.
He is almost always smiling.

These things are going to end one day.....

....I'm going to miss them.