4 months agrees with Jack.
It's almost 9:00, and both kids are still awake, and Ben and I are folding a mound of laundry that's as tall as I am (which is just from yesterday and today) and wondering WHY these kids won't sleep. Perhaps they hate us. Ben just went into Harry's room to put him in bed for the seventeenth-ish time, and Harry handed him a diaper and some wipes. Ben was all, "Get back in your fire truck," and Harry started screaming, "I'm poopy, Dada! I'm poopy." Okay then.