Save Me

I've been warned that it won't last forever, but right now Abbey might be Dylan's favorite person in the entire world.  (Except when he's tired, then he zeros in on Mommy and won't rest until he hits his target.)

She laughs, and he cracks up.  She throws a piece of paper off the couch, and he cracks ups.  She shares her pretzels with him, and he cracks up.  She says, "Hellooooo," and, well, you see where I'm going with this.

She revels in this hero-worship, and it can be a great help at times.  When he's in the mood, she can entertain him for small chunks of time, enough for me to run the vacuum quickly or clean up after breakfast.  My heart gets all warm and fuzzy, and I pat myself on the back at having done a great job developing their sibling relationship.

Except there are those other times.  The times when he is crabby and won't be satisfied until I pick him up for a snuggle and a song.  The times when he is engrossed in his trucks and doesn't want to build a tower with Abbey.

At those times, Abbey doesn't understand that he's not in the mood to play simply because she's in the mood to play.  She is tenacious, though, and persists with whatever game she wants him to play, regardless of his level of protest.  And in those times, Dylan dons the: "Save Me!" face.

Poor guy.  Just wait until she wants him to play dress-up or make-up with her.

"Save Me!"

Abbey's singing, "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands"

I don't think he feels like clapping