When G is tired, he doesn't reach for a certain stuffed animal.
He doesn't have a beloved blankie or any other lovie.
(Look at my sweet boys.)
He goes for the nearest earlobe.
He squeezes it.
He clutches it.
He rolls it between his fingers like a poker chip.
And when he is well and truly tired, he keeps just the very tip lightly clasped between his fingertips.
We turned G's carseat around last weekend. He loves his new vantage but he's as physical as ever about expressing his whims. He's not kicking L anymore, though as one of you predicted, he began pulling her hair. To say she was frustrated really doesn't quite cover it.
And then, this week, my brilliant girl found a solution. She brushed her hair behind her ear, and offered her little brother her earlobe. He squealed, clutched it, and hasn't injured her since.