I am about halfway through “The Girl Who Played with Fire” now. Review here.
I know, I am so late to this party. Oh well. I am hooked on them now! Too bad Philip has already watched all the movies — maybe he’ll want to watch them again when I’m done with the books. He watches movies like I read — nonstop.
Other than that, not much is going on.
Jack has been hilarious lately. He’s SO contrary.
The other day he had on a Ghostbusters shirt.
“Jack, who ya gonna call??”
“Mom, who AREN’T you gonna call!!”
Jeez, kid, way to make everything negative, you sourpuss.
In general, though, he’s still pretty charming. Everyone told me 3 was a dreadful age, but here we are, halfway through it (I can’t even believe that), and so far he’s been pretty good. He has his moments, don’t we all. But even Philip commented the other day, “Man, I wish I woke up so full of joy every single morning.” And that’s so true. He wakes up, yells, “Mom, I’m up! OK, mom?” And comes bounding into our room with his blankie to snuggle.
It’s so sweet, and he’s such a cuddler. He always has been. His sister, on the other hand. Well, good grief, Genevieve. She likes to be held, but you can’t pull her into bed with you for a nap. She sits up. Tosses and turns, tries to climb everything. She’s a nut.