I could act oblivious and say that I don't know how it happens but it goes something like this: Max wakes up sometime after midnight and sometime before three. Max screams "Mama!", then waits another minute and screams "Mommy!". I sit in bed and think that, this time, I will ignore him, but then I hear his squeaky little voice yell out "Mama!" one more time and, before I know what's happened, I'm carrying a bundle of blonde hair and blankets into my bed and for the rest of the night, I'm sandwiched between a snoring baby and a toddler who says "I cuddle, Mama! I cuddle!" followed up by "Watch Super Why!" every few minutes (until, of course, I give in and we both fall asleep watching Super Why).
Sometimes, though, Max likes to surprise me and, instead of asking to watch a show, he tells me about his day and about his baby and about his bed and and about dinosaurs and about elephants and giraffes and zebras and hedgehogs and cats and Uncle David and Pops and about how he loves sleeping in Mommy's bed and how Daddy's at work and about how he's fascinated with everything in the entire world because he's two and everything is interesting (my words, not his).
But! Two nights ago he surprised me even more when I felt a little finger on the back of my pillow and I heard a little voice say "A booger, Mama. A BOOGER."
I have to stop writing this because the memory makes me laugh so hard I can't even see the computer screen.
Two is fun, y'all!
(And full of boogers)