I bought Jude a few colouring books to go along with the crayons he is no longer eating. We sit at the table, pull Sophie's high chair up close and load it up with toys and colour colour colour. I'm not sure I ever enjoyed colouring as much as I have this past week. In fact between you and me, I colour when the kids are sleeping.
Jude can be a bit trying at times to colour with. He's a bit of a crayon Nazi. He hands out the crayons one by one and I have to hand back the one I've finished with before he gives me a new one. And he likes to re-colour the pages I've already coloured. Which honestly, I don't mind. He looks so proud when he's doing it. And he holds up the book, still clutching the crayon in his hand and yells, "Mama! Look!" I mean, how sweet is that? I just wish he'd wait until I'm done.
I introduced pencil crayons into the mix yesterday (I was colouring a page that was a bit more intricate than the others, okay?) and apparently the pencil crayons have a drug problem. They have to keep running off to the washroom (okay, it's to be sharpened). The last thing a crayon Nazi needs is a sharpener, you know?
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