(Nearly) Midnight Ramblings

It's 11:30 pm and I should have gone to bed 2 hours ago with Katy.

I'm totally wiped out.  Watching BS television and working on work emails and schedules that I can't get to during the day.  There is a lot of stuff in me that I want to wiggle it's way out - onto the pages of this blog and/or some other writing space.  But there are so many attention and time demands.

I'm working too hard at work to feel this behind the 8 ball.  It's just a 60 hour job that I'm trying to do in 45-50 hours a week.  and the time with the kids... it is so short and fleeting (except the middle of the night crying jags that we have been blessed with on and off these last few weeks- those don't seem so short)

These boys are so cute and happy and loved.
Jake is reading and learning about space in kindergarten.  He's gotten really good at drawing and coloring.  He likes wrestling and story-telling (or having stories told to him).  Jake is solid and occasionally anxious.  He likes patterns and predictability, but still asks me at night to "Sing me a song I've never heard before").  He vacillates between stoicism and complete intolerance of discomfort and hyperbolic expression of pain.  Tonight, he banged his shins and when i told him it would be okay and he would feel better soon, he told me "I WILL NOT BE OKAY...THEY WILL NEVER FEEL BETTER... "  After his bath when I absentmindedly pointed out to him that his underwear were ripping in the backside's seam, he burst into tears: "THEY'RE MY FAVORITE PAIR!" He wailed. I tried to express empathy for my softhearted, exhausted boy. But when it went on too long I had to walk away before I did something that would incite him. (Like try not to laugh hysterically while ripping the underwear in half.)

I notice him yawning when asked to recite prayers and songs or poems that I know he has memorized.  The yawns are so predictable that I've come to recognize them as a form of avoidance and/or nervousness.  The top 2 reasons he receives a reprimand these days are: for "talking baby-talk" (also usually happens when he knows he's doing something he shouldn't be or when he's afraid he might be wrong or in trouble - ie "nervousness") and not heeding the warning: "Be nice to your brother."

Milo is about 2 weeks off the binki (a story about that to follow) and still the happiest of us all.  He will give you every version of toddler "F.U." if you try to get him to do something he doesn't want to, but oh, the laugh on that kid.  as much as he gets labeled our "frat boy", Milo is also a sensitive soul.  Usually rushing to us (and always his brother) to see if we're okay.  Today, he took off his underwear, balled them up, handed them to me and said, "Here, smell these and you'll get a big surprise!!!"
Milo, hates hats and gloves and going to bed.  He wants to go potty and wants a drink of water and ine more kiss and a song and a song and a song, and then he will place a tiny protective arm around the neck of the parent putting him to bed and give a pleading whine: "I want you."  He is our little musician and tonight, he whipped through about 6 different songs that are in our bedtime ritual, but we've never really heard him sing before.  He knew EVERY WORD. it was touching and startling in an "other worldly" kind of way. It turns out (as Katy pointed out) he ACTUALLY IS... a good listener.

They are my heart.  My love.  My pride and joy.  These boys make me wish for more hours in the day, week, year.

Falling asleep... more to come

You are what you eat

Milo: We're boys.
Mommy: yes
Milo: Im'ma boy and Jakey. We're boys.
Mommy: (thinking I know I'm a 'girl') What am I?
Milo: You're an ADULT.
Mommy: Yes, you are boys and I'm an adult.
Milo: When I'm an adult, I'm gonna drink lots of things...
Mommy: Like what?
Milo: Like coffee...and tea...
Jake: and beer and wine... And soda
Mommy: yes. It's very exciting. When you get bigger, you can have some drinks that kids don't get to have. But every family is different and rules about what kids can have are different in different families.
Jake: Like what?
Mom: Like in some families the kids can have soda. And in our family, the rule is kids can't have soda. And some families don't eat any meat.
Jake (sounding alarmed): BUT WE EAT MEAT!!!???!!!
Mom: Yes, we eat meat, but in some families, the rule is "We don't eat meat."
Jake: But we do... We're carnivores.

Crazy talk and non-sensical rage

Milo's language skills have exploded.
Finally the kid can practically get his point across.  He has so many thoughts and ideas but they are generally not recognizable by English speakers.  Lately though, he is spilling over with impressive vocab and compound sentences.  Today at a red light he told me:

"Red means 'stop' and yellow means 'slow' and green means 'go'."
He has known this for a long time, but could only get out a word at a time. 
"YELLOW!" He'd scream as I blew through an intersection.

At some point in July, the kid was in the back seat of the car and he was stammering and stuttering trying to tell me something very important (perhaps that a tow truck had passed us) and finally he slapped his hands on his knees and shouted, "I'm tryin' TALK-TELL YOU SOMETHING-CAN'T!!!" I felt so bad and fed him a few lines to repeat: "Say, 'There's a red truck.'" He repeated it perfectly. "Say, 'There's a blue car'."  Again, flawless. He nodded at me in what I perceived to be a "Thank you" and calmed down.
 
As I've mentioned, he is somewhat strong-headed and wickedly intelligent, but he can be lazy with pronunciation.  He tends to eliminate "s"s completely.  So when he's asking for one of his favorite songs "Stuck like glue" and he insistently implores, "I WANT UCKLIKEGLUE!!!" I spend the next 45 seconds making him repeat, 'cause I still have nofah king idea what he's saying. 

When i finally figure it out, I"m like, "Milo,  stay 'SSSSssssssstuck'..."
"SSSSssssstuck."
So okay, he can say it.  He just frequently opts out.

Last week he asked Katy, "Did you get that out of the cabinet?" As clear as can be- like that was the most normal thing in the world for a 2 year old to say. 

She looked at me and asked, "Did he just say 'cabinet'?"
"Yes.  Yes he did."

In addition to improving his speech, Milo's been teething for what seems like forever, and drooling and sticking fingers and whatever he can find into his mouth.  "Get your fingers out of your mouth," is my most frequently uttered directive.  In our house (despite two Master's prepared nurses running the show) there is astounding ignorance related to germ theory.  No matter how many times I explain about all of the various nastiness that can be on the bottom of our shoes, I can count on both of my boys to absent-mindedly scan their digits over every square milometer of their sneakers and Crocs, just to pass the time.  Then everyone acts shocked when I'm screaming "GET YER DISGUSTINGLY DIRTY FINGERS OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!!!"

Today, I guess Milo was a little sick of my badgering, but he showed me- just skipped the middleman entirely and went right to the source:

Mommy: (unsuccessfully trying to hide her disgust) GET YOUR SHOE OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!!!
Milo: NOOOOOOooooooo!!!
Mommy: RIGHT NOW!
Milo: (growling) I'm gonna bite you in the baby room!
Mommy: WHAT?!?
Milo: (mumbling) I'm gonna bite you in the baby room...
Mommy: (softer and in a more serious tone) Milo, we don't threaten to bite people when we are angry...
Milo: YOU ARE DANGEROUS!
Mommy: You have no idea...

The kid is nuts.  But there is nothing I don't love about him.






Comparing how these two watch TV says a lot...

"That's not true!"

We've spent the better part of the last month spinning.  (Not the exercise class...)

Katy's dad was here for almost a week.  Before he arrived and during his time here, Katy was working mostly12 hour shifts to support the Electronic Health Record implementation at her hospital.  At the end of that week, Jake had his dance recital.  Two adorable numbers this year, tap and ballet.

 
During all that, softball started.  Anyone that reads this blog knows how much I look forward to Softball starting.  But truthfully this year, I am not yet mentally prepared to be out of work, kids fed, suited up, and at the field at 6:15pm.  Fortunately, there has been a lot of rain, so we've only played (I think) 3 times in the last 4 weeks.

Last week, Katy's moms came for a little over a week.  They kept the boys out of school, walking and gardening, doing puzzles and coloring and reading... They stayed here for the weekend while we headed out of state for a(n awesome) wedding.

Aside from fairly consistent whining, the boys seem to be doing great... Thriving in the chaos.  They sometimes need 2 or 3 tries- but they seem to get the rules when we remind them: "You can't get what you want if you are whining or crying."  This house rule is for their own personal protection as much as any convenience on my part... I cannot be held responsible for my actions if these jokers can't shake the easy-to-pick-up, hard-to-shake habit of WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYNING.

Milo also has a special gift for completely ignoring us.  If he is doing something we don't want him to, it is no use calling to him or asking him to stop from across the room.  To communicate a correction of some kind, you have to walk right up to him, and usually take his hands or cheeks into yours.  If you don't, he will just act like your voice is inaudible.

He has, though, really turned a corner with his command of the language.  He is speaking so much clearer and trying to say more.  It's been so long that we've been answering every one of his questions or statements with "What did you say? Can you say that again?"  That he's actually started to believe that is a part of regular communication.

"Milo, can you pick up your socks?"  And if he's not ignoring us completely, he will say, "What did you say?  Can you say that again?" While he's in the midst of picking up his socks.  He just thinks it is something you say after someone else talks, like a little British toddler, might say, "jolly good, ol' chap."

Also, he says "no"... A LOT.  And sometimes he gets confused when he means "No" but wants to switch it up, he starts to object like a lawyer:

Me: "Milo, please don't put your hand in your milk."
Him: "THAT'S NOT TRUE!" 
Me: "ORDER IN THE COURT, MATTLOCK!"

It's a funny thing when language develops- trying to piece together not just sounds and definitions, but context and various degrees of emphasis.  I'm like, "Dude, 'that's not true' does not mean the same thing as 'I don't want to'... those phrases are only interchangeable if you are running for public office."

Keeping time

Work has been horrific in these last few weeks.
Hyperbole is the word you are searching for to describe the tactic used in the previous sentence.
Let's try again... Work has been exhausting in the last few weeks: In that, "i feel blessed to be employed and have a job where I am valued, challenged, growing, and well compensated" kind of way.  I'm just spent, and not getting all that I want to do done- neither at work nor at home... and I'm staying up too late to compensate for the lack of sufficient hours in the day; but that is contributing to the extreme fatigue.

Last weekend, I tried to ignore my professional side completely.  It worked pretty well.  After spending the day on Saturday with the boys- enjoying life, hiking, laughing, eating ice cream, soaking in the warmth and comfort of the sun, I spent Sunday trying not to batter my kids.

I'm not saying that lightly.  I have wonderful, amazing children that I adore; that I would move heaven and earth to keep from harm's way...  But I have to admit, nearly 5 years into this parenting gig, I understand child abuse in a way I never did before.  Sometimes it takes all of your intellect and powers of reasoning, all of your coping skills, all of your spirituality and fear of hell and law enforcement officials to help keep you from inflicting corporal punishment.  Sometimes you have to hide the belts and the wooden spoons from yourself, and keep your hands busy...

Sunday was that kind of day.  The kids were just incorrigible.  They were obstinate and whiny and ruthlessly disobedient.  Jake got 5 time outs before 11 am.  Milo was spitting and hitting and picked up a terra-cotta flower pot over his head in the most intentional and menacing way.  I moved quickly towards him trying to sternly but calmly talk him out of.  He gave me a little grin and threw it to the ground with all his might.

The day ended with the version of our bedtime ritual that does not involve a bit of TV (that had long since been punitively removed from the menu of options): PJs, brush teeth, read book, say prayers, sing a song... We got to the part where they each get a small sip of water (the final step, the part that lets them know, "day is done") and the brothers began fighting about who would take the first sip.

I am careful to alternate this ritual, but I couldn't remember whose turn it was, and the whining and protesting was instantaneous.

Jake: (bursting into sudden, over-dramatic hysterics) I WANT THE FIRST SIP OF WATER... I WANT TO GO FIRST!!!
Milo: (in full blown imitation mode) I WANT THE FIRST SIP OF WATER... I WANT TO GO FIRST!!!
me: (so tired of this silly shit and the fake crying) Work it out boys.  You tell me who is getting the first sip... If you can't agree, then no one gets any water.

They each stood their ground, repeating their identical request/demand to be first.  I counted to 3 and offered one more chance.

"I GO FIRST" they wailed in unison.

I appealed to Jake one last time:  "Should your brother get the first sip? or should no one get any water?"

10 or 20 seconds passed while he considered his move: "No one!" He replied in what would be the day's final triumphant stand of quiet (possibly) stoic assholery.  Milo seemed confused, but did not have the debate skills to negotiate anything further with either of us...

I walked away silently wishing them well, "Enjoy the cotton-mouth, suckers!" I would have said if my sense of humor was not also dehydrated.

"WTF was that?" I thought over and over in my review of the day.  Where did we go wrong?!?

Today, we had friends over for dinner.  The boys were really well-behaved and sweet.  At bedtime (48 hours from the close of one of my top-10 least favorite days I've ever had as a parent) I had this conversation:

Milo: I wear your watch, Mommy?
Me: okay.  (I put the too big watch on him and start singing) Good night my angel, now it's time to sleep and save these questions for another day
Milo (checking the watch and then whispering) 8 O'clock!
Me: (singing) I think I know what you've been asking me... I think you know what I've been trying to say...
Milo: (checking the watch, another whisper) 6 O'clock
Me: (singing and suppressing giggles) And like a boat out on the ocean... I'm rocking you to sleep
Milo: (checking, another little whisper) 9 O'clock

-----------
Then, in between songs I sang while tucking in Jake...

Jake: Mom, when onions make you cry, do you think that's just their way of protecting themselves?
Me: Hmm...(trying not to laugh, lest he thinks I'm laughing AT him) It makes sense that that might be part of it, huh?
Jake: Yeah... a lot of plants and animals have all kinds of ways to protect themselves...
Me: (clutching my proud and overworked heart) Yup

I guess they do really listen. 

On exceeding expectations...

Jake: (As Katy is offering him a sandwich) I. DON'T. WANT. IT!!!

Katy: Try again, Jake, we don't talk like that.

Jake: (instantaneously) Um, Mama, thank you for offering that to me, but I don't really want it right now.

Me: Ten points for Griffindor!

Katy (Under her breath to me) Way to set the future bar higher for yourself, dude... It makes more sense now why he keeps getting all those stickers at school...

The eyes have it

Getting ready to leave the house this AM was a typically hectic dance. The boys were up and down, running around. I put JB's coat on and when I turned to put ML's on, JB had taken his off. The climax of anxiety for me came when we stepped outside and a dump truck driving by commanded both boys' thorough attention. I didn't know if ML was going to run into the road after it, or tear off for the largest puddle in the driveway. Puddle-jumping is one of his favorite past times and after 3 days of rain, this mother-loving puddle would have necessitated a complete costume change.

I ran after them and wrassled them into their car seats; the tiny and unpredictable Senór Destruction always gets restrained before the elder. I strapped in ML, handed him a plush puppy, and moved around to the other side of the car.

While I buckled in JB there was some insistent yapping coming from Senór. I effectively ignored him and buckled myself in before I looked back at him...

ML: EYE! EYE! EYE!

In my defense, it sounded like gibberish. But when I looked at him, he was pointing at his puppy's EYE, and shouting the word with perfect diction: "EYE! EYE! EYE!"

Me: YAY!!! ML!!! GREAT JOB!!! ML said the word 'Eye'!!! Everyone cheer for ML!!!

JB: (Not to be outdone and in a neutral tone that will either make him a lot of friends some day, or get him labeled a teacher's-pet-know-it-all) Mom, does he mean like an "I" like you write with? Or an eye that you see with?!?

I wanted to roll my eyes, but that is pretty smart and pretty funny, right? Except that ML was poking the dog right in the eye... so if you are a "smart" three and 1/2 year old, you shouldn't have to ask this...

Also, it is sneaking up on us, but ML is starting to talk!!!
Hooray!!!

Look who's talking...

Today, big day on the language front...

With purpose and conviction, ML said:

Mama
Mommy
cheese
grape
yes, please

Conversations with Kids

JB: (Watching a you tube video of the 747 that has a space shuttle strapped to it's back) Mommy, are the wheels down for landing?
Me: yes... see? (I point to the wheels)
JB: Mommy, do you know why helicopters don't need run ways or landing strips?
Me: why?
JB: Because the blades on the helicopter lift them straight up and down, they don't need runways.

---------------

[After several more exchanges like the one above]
Me: you are very smart. Who teaches you all these smart things?
JB: Mama.
Me: Just Mama? Anyone else?
JB: um... Grandpa, and Mama... and Nana. That's the only people that I can think of that teaches me things.
Me: oh...
(lol)

---------------

JB: (Acting like a radio personality with a pair of "sony walkman style" headphones on. He has tied the plug end to the refigerator so that he is "plugged in".) Who can tell me what it is when an animal sleeps in the winter time- all through the winter???

[Katy and I put our hands in the air like competing teacher's pets]

JB: Mommy, you say it... Your turn- you say what it is to sleep in the wintertime?

Me: Hibernation. When an animal sleeps during the winter, that is called hibernation. (JB nods, encouragingly) Yes... now mama's turn: (He puts his hand up at me to be sure I understand this question is off limits to me) What is it if an animal is awake in the nighttime and sleeps at the daytime??? Mama? Do you know?

Katy: NOCTURNAL! (JB nodding excitedly) When an animal sleeps during the day and is up at night s/he is nocturnal!

JB: Good job, mommy and mama!!!

(go to commercial, Ryan Seacrest)

Conversations with kids

JB (looking through a see-and-learn book): That's a submarine...
Me: What is a submarine?
JB: A submarine is a thing that goes under water.
Me: What kind of thing?
JB: A boat. A boat that people live on that goes under water... (turns page and points) That's a fire station.
Me: What happens at a fire station?
JB: A fire station is where the firemen are and where the trucks are waiting for an emergency. (Turns page.) That's a space shuttle...
Me: What's a space shuttle do?
JB: That's a rocketship... Like an airplane that goes into space and stuff.
Me: (nodding, totally impressed with this display, but trying to keep my cool)
JB: (turns page and points for me) That's a movie set...
Me: What's a movie set? (I'm truly curious how he's going to explain this one...)
JB: That's where they fire up movies...

I lose it!
Hilarious!

Newletter: Month 34

JB,

Today you are 34 and some-odd-fraction months old.

Holy smmokes. We talk a lot about you in these here web-pages, but if these were supposed to be "monthly" newsletters, we (and by "we" I mean "I") have failed you.

You and I had a big fight at dinner tonight.
It started with Sit down and ended with you crying in time out and me red-faced, muttering, and pacing a few yards away.

The new thing from you is NO.
I mean all kinds and versions of "no".

There's the little, "do you want more milk?"
No.

And then there's the, "Please SIT in your chair."
NO.

And then there's the, "You are in time out."
NO, I am not going to time out... no.

The defiance comes with a touch too much whining for my taste...
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa! NOOOoooooo!!!"
And hysteria... at least it did tonight.

Since you have generally earned the nickname, Mr. Mellow, you can sometimes be like living with Dr. Jackle and Mr. Whine. Honestly, it IS hard to hear "no" to the simplest request, query, imperative (from a not-yet-3-year old) when your safety or comfort is at stake... I am sure this will be as hard or harder when you are 7, 10, 13, 16, 21 years old, but i guess my thought is that at least you will have the vocabulary for a fair debate and enough of a grasp of the concept of cause-and-effect for me to not have to be the only one "choosing my battles".

But these events are not without my own emotional response. And our similarities are already emerging as reasons we will butt heads: stubborn, watery, sensitive, brave, wishy-washy-not-sure-what-i-want-and-that-is-hard-enough-to-deal-with-inside-of-me-let-alone-having-to-try-to-convey-it-to-you, DON'T BE DISAPPOINTED IN ME, and LET ME FIGURE IT OUT ON MY OWN! heads. Sweet, sweet boy, you and I are a lot alike.

But, you are also like your Mama- she won't go into the Ocean unless I beg or trick her either. You and she notice things I miss every day. Things I would miss completely if you weren't pointing them out: "Hear the crickets, Mama and Mommy?"

It's been several months now that we are blown away by the way you are calculating and figuring out the world, grouping ideas and things together correctly, extrapolating out notions that seem impossibly wiser than your age.

You know all four components of your given name; you know your address including city and state. You know what we need to do in different weather- what to wear if it rains or snows or is hot, why we put the windows up or down, when we use the windshield wipers, why lights go on at night; You look for stars and the moon when the sun starts to go down. If you see a digger, you ask how he can do his work without a dump truck. When you see a telephone pole, you tell us about the wires attached and what they do, what they are for. When you see our neighbors leaving, you ask where they are going... and we have to think up 5 or 6 "maybes"... "Maybe they are going to work... Maybe they are going to visit their kids... Maybe they are going to the store..." we joke that "everything comes down to safety": hard hats, lights on cars, reflectors, lines on the road, seat belts, windows that don't go all the way down, treads on shoes... When answering the incessantly asked question, "why", I would estimate, 80% of the time the answer is ultimately safety. But that's not satisfying to you:

JB: Why that truck have a step there?

Random Mom: because it is too high without a step.

JB: Why?

RM: so that the driver/worker can get to the top without getting hurt.

JB: Why?

RM: to keep him safe

JB: Why?

RM: It is probably an OSHA violation; his employer needs to prevent repetitive motion injuries and calculate what step size is ergonomically proper to avoid undue stress on his joints.

JB: Oh.

It sometimes seems as if you will only accept the answer that is above your pay-grade, and then your reaction is a very mellow, "oh." As if, "Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

You are getting good at pretending and telling stories. Your cousins have helped you learn about pretending. The three of you are constantly "taking our orders" in your pretend restaurants and you alternate between having every imaginable food we can conjure up OR telling us, "We don't have that here," to all the items we request. It is adorable but maybe makes us think we go out to eat too often.

JB loves sports: the world cup on TV, baseball, basketball, our softball games. You are starting to understand the difference between the games and the rules, the positions, and the teams. You take turns being the batter and the pitcher, the kicker and the goalie. One day, you used 4 sippy cups to tell me which were the on the soccer team that "had the ball" and which were on the team that "didn't have the ball" (this was based on the color of their tops). You also have followed Mama's lead in your affinity for dance as a spectator sport. There's this show called, "So you think you can dance" on TV which I hope (by the time you are able to or interested in reading these newsletters) is a faded memory. You and she sit and watch and rewind and cue up your favorites for me to see. There was one where boys were dressed at ball players and "danced it out"... it was like all of your favorite things rolled into on 3 minute segment.

We bought you a pair of "tap shoes" which are really a pair of plastic, purple girls shoes that make noise as you clip-clop across the floor. We set out to buy you some flip-flops but when you wandered over to the girl's section of the store and used your most politely hesitant voice to ask, "Can I have these?" We just couldn't leave them behind in the store. You couldn't nap for the entire weekend after we bought them b/c they were on the floor near your bed and it was too exciting to sleep with those shoes just sitting there. We are sufficiently convinced that you want to try to dance and in the fall there's an "all sports" class at the Y at 9am and a tap class down the street at 10 am... I think if we buy you real, authentic, ACTUAL tap shoes, you will soil yourself in excitement, so... I mean... CLEAN UP IN AISLE SIX... bring it on...

Your vocabulary is impressive. Your conversational skills are ever-improving. See this post for a few of my favorite, recent items. Despite your obvious smarty-pants status, you have developed this somewhat annoying habit of asking, "What?" when really you know exactly what we said and what is going on. You've had trouble hearing in the past due to the difficulty with your ears being full of fluid, but if we just spoke louder every time you asked, "Whattt?" (you like to really enunciate the hard "t" at the end) it would be like a school for the deaf around here. Then too, we've noticed that if we just don't respond to the "Whattt?" you tell us what we said. Your Mama complains that I have a Premature and exasperating "What" that is part of my vernacular, and I have also heard you say my "which one?" That is one of mine too. You had an ENT appointment last week which revealed that both of your ear tubes (Placed in January) are out, so now we will have even a harder time determining if your "Whattt" is related to water-logged hearing or absent-minded distractedness.

Speaking of trips to the hospital... In June, you got your first stitches. Briefly, here's the tale. ML was sent home from school with a fever. He puked all over me and then when I handed him off to Mama, he puked all over her. in our brilliance, we were carting him all over the house, trying to calculate how best to get him comfortable and cleaned off, so he puked in about 4 or 5 rooms of the house. I took you to come mow the lawn with me so you would be outside, and I was worried about your safety in the backpack carrier, so I buckled you in with your sunglasses on and took 5 steps away to get the batting helmet that you love to wear (safety first.) You kicked yourself over and the sunglasses cut your forehead when your noggin' hit the pavement. We called your TT. she came over in less than 300 seconds. It was the dinner hour and Mac was in nothing but a tutu. Dried blood caked all over your face, you asked your cousin, "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" She deadpanned, "Why is there blood all over your face?" When I said, "I'm sorry buddy, I think we have to go to the hospital." You started sobbing a staccato alternative: "We'll... stay... here.. you mow the lawn... I'll sit ... and ... watch... I fe...el bet...ter." You got 4 stitches. The trip to the ER took 5 hours. You are stuck all summer wearing a bandaid over your forehead to try and prevent the sun from making the scar more noticeable. I felt terrible for at least a week, but then I made up some story about how it would have been much worse if I hadn't buckled you in the carrier- that's the story that I'm sticking to kid.

You've started using expletives like, "Awesome!" and "Cool!" to describe things. You use the words, "actually" and "also" and "holy guacamole"... you are clear on what drink is an "adult beverage" and what is a "kid beverage". The "Actually" kills me... I just love it. We say it all the time, but when it come out a kid's mouth, it is just so funny.
This exchange typifies the adorableness of it:
Me: JB, what's your favorite letter?
JB: um... 'A'
Me: That's a good letter.
JB: Ummm, actually, it's 'B'

You also hear words and they make you think of other similar sounding words. When you overheard your grandpa use the word, "mediocrity," you looked at him and said, "And also, I have crocks on."

You finally started treating ML like he is occasionally intruding on your perfect world. When he comes crawling towards you and the toys you are playing with, you have started say, "NO," to him. (surprise, surprise) You do this when he starts to crawl away or toward the stairs too, "NO" as if you need him to stay still for you to be comfortable. This makes sense. Your brother is very different from you- he is all "go now, ask questions later" and you seem to have always been a "Let me take it slow and think about things before I move" kind of kid. We are pretty stern with you about saying "NO" to ML. We try to tell you that you don't have to protect him or your toys that you can tell us and we will steer ML to safety... that you can just explain to him how to do things, but this is coming out as instinct "NO, ML," and to be honest, your mommy and mama are surprised at how long it has taken for any territorial behavior to show up.

Then too, I would be remiss if I did not point out how often you reach toward him with a soft touch to say 'HI' and how you don't react hardly at all if ML swats at you or climbs on you. You continue to be an absolutely amazing big brother. All we could have hoped for and more.

You are doing great at school. The teachers say you are one of the best kids there: polite, friendly, happy, smart. You have made it clear that you remember your old school, but you prefer the new one and that is a relief for us- we would have been very heartbroken if this transition seemed to have hurt you somehow.

Your favorites right now:

Food: spaghetti and meatballs (still)

Color: Orange (still) but at least 1/2 the time you will tell us your favorite is orange AND red

Favorite toys: trucks, "soft things" (puppy, barry white, polar bear, teddybear), glove-balls-tee-helmet, puzzles,
TV show: Handy Manny
Potty training status: Mostly dry, most nights... sometimes not, but otherwise completely potty trained. (as it's been for nearly 6 months now)

Patented "JB kisses": 'two handed' - one hand on each cheek of the person you are kissing.

We can't believe that you are going to be 3 years old in less than 2 months. You are getting so big and despite all of the "NO's" you are lobbing at us on a daily basis, you are as sweet as honey from the hive. We are astounded at how cute you are and smart and beautiful... It sure makes it hard to be stern with you and consistent when you misbehave. But we will figure that all out...

We love you very much!!!

Mommy and Mama

Conversations overheard

July 1, 2010:
At a Dayton Dragon's (minor league) game, JB, still awake in the 9th inning: "Where's the um'pirate?"

July 5, 2010:
Out for a walk with JB in the stroller... Neither of us has spoken for a few minutes. Out of the blue he announces: "Bibbity Boppity BACON".

July 11, 2010: JB is falling asleep in the car after many hours of swimming and playing. His eyes are lolling around in his skull and I say to him, "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" He blinks a few times and says, "Can we hear some Lady Gaga?"

We stop for gas a few minutes later and there is an amazing double rainbow. It is the first time we have the opportunity to show him a real rainbow. Katy and I pull JB out of the car and point to it, using various clouds, trees, and an airplane as points of reference.

Moms: Do you see it? It is right there?
JB: yes (he's looking in the wrong direction)
Moms: Look up there, see the colors?
JB: yes
Moms (trying to point him to it) see the jet? it's about to fly through the rainbow. Do you see the rainbow?
JB: (not looking high enough in the sky to see the rainbow) Yes. I see it
Moms: (emphatically repeating themselves)
JB: Um, can I just look at that dump truck?
Moms bring their gaze to the horizon and see a huge, orange, municipal, dump truck parked about 200 feet away and start laughing, hysterically.

This morning, in our kitchen, JB has his hands in fists:
JB: can you clean my hands off
Me: sure.
JB: (Handing me an empty banana peel) They have some of this carcass on them I need to clean off.

This evening while waiting for the tub to fill, a naked JB is sort of quietly muttering to himself: "blah, blah, blah... blah, blah, blah"... I can't really hear him and lean in for a better listen. He sounds like an actor patiently rehearsing lines. With a gentle inflection, he intones: "I'm not mad at you, I'm not angry, I'm just explaining... I'm not angry... I'm not mad, I'm just explaining..." I run, silently giggling to get Katy. She says, "Where did he pick that up?" I roll my eyes as she has said this to him 2 times this evening alone... And last week when I caught him considering the dimensions of an electrical outlet and shouted him away from it, I had to write a convincing jingle off-the-cuff with these very words to stop the kid from sobbing.

NOT TO BE OUTDONE...
ML: (several times over the last few weeks) "DA!"
"Da-da!"
"Na-na!"
"GA!"
"Laaaaaaa" and "AaaaaaaRrraaaaaaarrrrr" (in a perfect imitation of a drunken Barney from the Simpsons.)

So effing amazing... these kids are!

Making a 2 year old play "Taboo"

Katy is walking JB out this AM thru the garage where our garbage cans are stored in this humid weather.

JB: (imitating the tone of a 13 year old who is disgusted by the conditions of his free room and board...) It STINKS!

Katy: (alarmed by his tone) That is not how we say it.

JB: (a sweetly spoken explanation) When I put my nose in the air, it didn't smell good.

-------
BAaahaahahhahahahhahah.

Because he communicates so well, I do think we are a little hard on him. I think he is just starting to use words and doesn't really understand about "tone" or sounding rude or harsh... Yet, that's our job, to teach him manners. We can't let him learn the words and speak however he wants and then in a few months or years try to teach him inflection separately...

Still, sometimes he must really be thinking, "These fishes got a lot of rules."

A new day

Last night when I put JB to bed, I had a conversation with him that would have made my Grandpa Weber shit his pants. (My grandpa wasn't so much into the New Age way of communicating with children as he was into the if you must communicate, do it with a belt way of thinking...)

But I was literally out of ideas related to JB and I decided that what he needed more than anything else was, information...

I talked to him about why today was so bad for him. I talked to him about basic psychology... I told him that one of the reasons he is having a hard time is because of the change to a new school; and he doesn't know it, but changes are hard and this school change is one of the hardest he might have in a long time. And it is difficult and confusing to have fun at the new school but at the same time miss the old school... But that is all okay and normal.

I know what you are thinking: "T, he's 2, not 12..." but hang in there with me... I did feel like a crazy person talking to a 2 year old like he was a teenager, but it occurred to me that he understands a lot more than he has the vocabulary to query us about and "senses" a lot more than he has the coping skills to contend with. And we have a LOT of information that we are not sharing with him, including but not limited to our understanding of the world, info about stress and change management; psychology, reverse psychology, coping mechanisms, planning, scheduling, communication strategies, long term benefits vs short term gains, basic principles of economics as they relate to pyscho-social interactions such as lost-opportunity-cost, etc.

Though i didn't get into all of those things, he listened to me ramble about his day for at least 5 minutes during which time I reviewed tomorrow's planned schedule, emphasizing that tomorrow will be different and better. I told him what tomorrow morning would be like. I laid out the schedule and plan in as much simplified detail as I could: wake up, go potty, cuddle for a few minutes, get dressed, go have breakfast - waffles, etc. When I was done with the list of how tomorrow would go, I repeated it- TWICE.

It was a crazy thing to do, but (as I said above) I started to think the kid really would be reassured by more information than we've been giving him.

Katy will probably hit me with a large heavy object when she reads this b/c this is the type of conversation she is always hounding me to have with her: "Can we make a plan for the week? Can we make a plan for the morning? for the weekend?"

I'm not that great with planning, but it seems that this really helps humans function better. Hmmph. Go figure...

Perhaps it is the biggest coincidence of all time, but today was a completely different day with JB. Not one screaming fit. Nothing more than a modicum of whining this morning. Some of you might be jumping to the logical conclusion that we have an awesome kid- wise beyond his years, amazingly well-adjusted, and sophisticated in his ability to adapt. While I agree with this assessment, I also walk away from this experience bolstered by another thought:

I am awesome.

Sometimes things work out so much like how you wished that they would, that you can't help but take the credit!!!

:)

Fun with English: "Jelly"

Scene ONE:

JB: (While brushing his teeth, he notices my spiker ice hair sculpturing gel that's sitting on the bathroom sink. He stops brushing and points with his toothbrush): Mom, you jelly up your hair with that?

Me: yup. That's right.

Scene TWO:

I sometimes use a "pretending game" that I learned at JB's gymnastics class as a way to distract him. Pantomiming painting the bottom of his feet, on one foot I spread "peanut butter" and on the other foot I spread "jelly", then I "stick" them together and pretend to nibble.

Tonight, i did that twice and then said, "How about 'ham' and 'mustard'?" I started to spread the ham on one foot and he stopped me...

JB: NO, jelly!
Me: Jelly and peanut butter? Again?
JB: (giggling) No, "Jelly" and "BEANS"

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'

Keep that baby rollin'...

ML rolled over once about 2 or 3 months ago. And then nothing, until now.
This weekend, he rolled.
And rolled.
And rolled.

He's been sleeping (knock on wood).
He's transferred to a new type of binki.
He can soothe himself and (nearly) bring that binki correctly to his mouth.
He is eating cereal,
and peas
and carrots
and sweet potatoes...

He is so beautiful and sweet.



This weekend, a lot happened:
sitting up
skooting backwards,
ROLLING,
Oh and also, as ironic as can be...
"DaDa-Da-da Da-da" is for shizzle his first discernible utterance.

The (tiny) Godfather

For about a 1/2 a year, we have been getting JB to lend us his ear by telling him, "I have a secret I want to tell you."

We tell him we have a secret and he brings his ear dutifully near the secret-bearer's mouth.

Then one of his moms whispers the secret: "I love you."

His response varies.
Sometimes, he giggles and says, "No, mommy."
Sometimes he nods and says, "yeah."
Sometimes he thrills us with a return whisper: "I love you too."

We've done it over and over again and sometimes he even tells us the secret unprompted.

Tonight, JB told his brother, "ML, I have a secret I want to tell you..."

I wasn't there, but Katy told me... She waited, excitedly. She smiled at the adorableness she knew she was about to witness...

JB leaned his lips close to his 4 month old brother's ear and whispered:

"Big. Brother."

(Baaaaaaaahahahah ahhahahahhahahhaha.)

Not exactly sure his point, but it seemed like it might have been some kind of warning.

--------------------------
UPDATE: He's done it a few more times now, and the secret JB seems to be whispering is:
"I'm your big brother."

Back to children's hospital next week

JB told us tonight that his "ear hurts". In the history of all his ear infections, he's never told us that. Either b/c he didn't have the language, or b/c the fluid didn't cause him all that much discomfort. He's never tugged on his ears, he's never moved his head with any indication that he was having ear pain, even when he was little...

That one time his eardrum ruptured, he did scream all night, but he was a baby and we were new parents... we didn't know what the hell was going on.

Now he's got the words, and it was just a little sadder to hear the complaint directly from his little mouth. But actually, we've been waiting for this...

Last week (or maybe 2 weeks ago) he went for his ENT follow up visit (every six months since his ear tube placement surgery last December) and his hearing is back to being significantly affected due to fluid behind his ear drums. Also, his tonsils are big and the ENT told Kt that our boy needed to get the ear tubes replaced and also that he should get his tonsils and adenoids removed.

This is an overnight stay and we were initially torn (having a little PTSD about ML's illness and returning to the sight of our 7 day "vacation of terror" this past October) as time passes, we both can't help but get excited for JB who doesn't even know that he is sick and the reason he is drippy, whinny, coughing, snoring, etc is b/c he needs surgery. We're "excited" (though stressed) because we both believe that he will be a new little boy without all this fluid and pressure in his ears and if he can breathe better and therefore feel more rested on a regular basis...

The surgery is a week from Tuesday. Tonight, we gave him Tylenol which is sucked down like a man dying of thirst in the desert. Thursday is his pre-op physical. If he's still complaining tomorrow, we'll be forced to call the pediatrician and/or the surgeon and see if they want/need us to do anything sooner than next week.

Two of my sweetest moments as a mom...

Happened in bathrooms today...

1) JB is in full potty training mode. He's in underwear except at night and has been relatively accident free. Today I had to go to the bathroom and he insisted on coming in with me. He was distractedly playing with a toy, but when he heard my first drop of pee hit the water, he immediately turned his attentive eyes to me. With a proud, eager smile he congratulated me: "GOOD JOB, MOMMY!"

(Sigh)

2) Tonight as I was getting him ready for bed, we were working thru our routine. The regular dental hygiene segment is as follows: JB brushes with a standard kid's toothbrush for as long as he wants and then I brush his teeth with that same toothbrush. Then, he gets to use my electric brush. (I used it as a reward one night thinking I would forever regret that split second of poor judgement, but he really likes it, and uses it well and actually puts it on his teeth, etc.)

Tonight he balked when I handed him his toothbrush and just as I thought it would be a big'ol battle, he asked sweetly, "You brush my teeth, Mommy?" and he handed the brush back to me. He allowed me to really get in there and brush. He stopped to ask me if I saw any food on his teeth (??) and in the middle of my cleaning- his mouth full of spittle- he told me encouragingly, "You are a really good toothbrusher, Mommy."

I'm sure this kid will say plenty of things in his life that will reflect back my not-so-deeply-hidden inner asshole, but today many of the things he said made me think "Wow, we are doing pretty good with this parenting thing."

Sent from my iPhone

What his Mama's been training him for

This morning in the car...

JB: Mommy what's that?
me: What?
JB: That (pointing to something behind me that I can't see.)
me: I don't know, babe... what do you see?
JB: Buckle!
me: the seat belt??? (I realize I don't have mine on)
JB: Yes. Seat belt. Safety first, Mommy.
me: Thanks, JB (I buckle my seat belt, having been reprimanded by a not quite 26 month old.)

At least we are doing ONE thing right!?!