At least he's not smearing sh*t on the walls

Things Milo could be doing with his stubborn, high-spirited nature during these times of intense life changes:

1) breaking things

2) punching people

3) making himself throw up

4) launching food and overturning dinner plates

5) marking his territory with urine

6) stashing, storing, smearing, or otherwise playing with his own excrement

7) sneaking out and getting drunk with the guys... 

8) hooking up with the loose girls at day care

9) making fake IDs with my iPhone

10) having nightmares, really falling apart...

I guess an occasional 2 hour bedtime show-down is small potatoes. 

At first, I thought it was standard stalling and tried to be firm. But 30 mins in (20 mins after his older brother had started snoring), I stopped focusing on getting what I wanted and just started rummaging through drawers for a white flag to wave...

When he sat on the top stair, twinkled his non-tired eyes, rested his full, puffy cheeks in his not-so-tiny hands and answered my, "You are going to bed right now" with:

"No.  I'm not."  Then he got quieter:  "I. Am. Not...   Not going to bed...   Not tonight."
Then he looked at me, with pity and exhaled: "no. I'm not."

Serious as a heart attack.

People, I know when I'm beat.  My mama did NOT raise a fool.  I'm all about being the adult - "the parent" and setting limits.  But it was the calm in his eyes- like the sea in a glossy travel brochure; it was his non agitated, purposeful stare...

And as Yoda- oops, I mean - JAKE told me earlier today, "Mommy, do you know the secret to beating your enemies?  Make them your friends."

"Okay," I told my curly haired challenger, "If you're not going to bed, come down here and and help me clean up.  You can start by cleaning up your cars."

Trying to get them to bed early on transition day, I had planned to return the 17 die cast metal cars (we counted them aloud 4 times as he parked then in the shape of letters (and one time in the shape of a "mark" that I when I tilted my head a little I realized was a pretty perfect "question mark") away.

When the cars were away, I had him put the couch cushions back and fluff the throw pillows.  Then I told him to go get two books and we read them each - twice.  Then we headed upstairs and drank a small dixie cup of water and as I laid him down, we talked about his day:  The hole he dug in the sand (It was huge)... The sand he put on the slide (even though his teachers told him not to put sand on the slide)... We talked about kindergarten coming up in the fall.

He didn't know that I had already decided I wouldn't even be trying to leave his lower bunk bed until I was dismissed.

Back when I worked in the ICU, I had this little rule, if a patient/or family rang his/her call bell 3 times within 20 minutes, I would pack up my charts and go in there and sit.  I would first see what they needed, and answer their question or request; BUT then I would pull up a chair or desk and sit there yammering and/or charting until the patient and/or family would say something like, "You must have other work you have to do."

When I stopped peppering Milo with questions and the conversation started to lull, I didn't make a move to leave.  I didn't even shift my weight, but still he grabbed my face and whined: "I NEED you." I held my hands over his hands, tight on my cheeks.

"I need you and love you too,"  I replied

"I WANT you."  He pulled me tighter.

"I'm right here."  I kissed both his palms and offered him mine. 

"I ALWAYS need and want you."

"Me too."  More kisses on his hands and arms

"You always... yell at me."  

I laugh.  "I SOME-times yell at you when you don't listen, but I am not yelling right now."

I snuggled in closer. "I'm staying right here until you tell me I should go."

Literally 10 seconds pass.

"When you hear the 'DING' you go.... DING!"  He high-pitched the last word into a flawless, one-toned bell.

"Okay, when I hear that noise, I should go?"

"No.  It ding'd.  You should go now... it already ding'd."

 Now I'm laughing, hard: "Wait... Now? go now???"

"Yes.  You have to. It already Ding'd.  Sorry.  I love you.  Now go."

Bahahahahahahaha!

Seriously, this kid is ridiculous.

Keeping me on my game

The other day, I'm buckling Jake into the car seat (seriously, every other kindergartner we know can buckle themselves in) and he holds up his hands in a full shrug:

"So, what's a 'Husband' anyway?"

I can't help feeling like I'm walking into a trap.  I know he knows what a "husband" is, after all.
I think he's pretty much asking me why we don't have one, but I don't want to over-blow it.
I take a deep breath, knowing I have 15 seconds to figure out how to play this and I lead with my inner goof-ball.

"You KNOW what a HUSBAND is?!?" I say in my best, exaggerated, game-show host voice.

"No," he says with a convincing earnestness.

"A husband," I say matter of factly, "Is a man who is married.  If a man is married, he's a husband.  If a woman is married, she's a wife."

Jake contemplates his fingernails, while I continue, "When a man and a women get married, they are a husband and a wife." I employ a sillier voice at this point, "HUSBANDS and wives. Husbands AND wives.  Husbands and WIVES...  But SOMETIMES, there's a..." I pause for dramatic effect "WIFE and a WIFE..."

"Like in our house!" We say it in unison and he smiles.

I let it hang in the air like a "Ta-Da!!!"

"And SOMETIMES," my voice is full of drama and mischief, "There is a HUSBAND and a HUSBAND...  But USUALLY..." I borrow the cadence of that dog food commercial from the 80's.  "Usually... it's husbands and wives, husbands and wives, husbands and wives." (Kibbles and bits, Kibbles and bits, kibbles and bits).

Jake all but yawns.  "Yeah," he says completely unimpressed with the theatrics, "I guess you just have to decide who you love..."

(sigh.)

Yeah...

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.

First day of Kindergarten: Hopes and Dreams

During orientation today, the principal at Jake's school encouraged us to "get to know" her and share with her our "hopes and dreams for his kindergarten year."  Kate and I sat side by side in a humid basement that they call the "gym/auditorium" and even though I was closer to bursting into a puddle of sweat vs. tears, that line did make me shrug away an emotional shudder.  Maybe I hadn't realized I did have hopes and dreams for him at this early stage in the game, maybe i was shocked in these first few seconds of contemplation how basic they were.

Perhaps to a fault, I don't give a shit where he is with his reading or math.  The kid is smart and a "pleaser" with two academic-minded moms, he will excel in school and be reading like a champ in no time...

I hope he has fun and learns to love those put in charge of his learning.
I dream that what happens this year sets him up to trust the people we call "teachers" and to feel safe in the buildings we call "schools".

I hope he makes friends and learns how to be good and generous to other kids.
I dream he has the experience of acceptance and friendship without learning to crave and chase the "high" of feeling popular.

I hope he somehow learns to appreciate the special qualities of others without feeling jealous.
I dream he learns to appreciate the special qualities in himself without feeling superior.

***************
In the middle of the first 1/2 hour in his class room, Jake pulled at my pocket and said, "I have to go potty."  His teacher showed him the room and he was in there for several minutes before the motion sensor light went out.  Over the din of the classroom, I heard quiet yelling, "Anyone... Hey, Anyone... Anyone out there..." it was soft at first and grew louder.  I realized what must have happened and the lights flew on as I opened the door and rushed in.

He shrugged at me, "Hey," he said, not quite embarrassed.
"Hey, buddy!" I said laughing in a way that I'd hoped would reassure him.  "If that ever happens again, you just have to wave your arms around to get the lights back on again."  I offered several more sentences in the way of explanation.  And then I noticed his red face and watering eyes...
He was about to cry, and I didn't want that to happen...  All these emotions rushed to me: he is way more nervous than we realized... He's afraid.  And he was literally left in the dark, oh no...

And then I heard the splash as he dropped (what I later realized was the third) rather large turd in the tiny "to scale" toilet. Misty eyes, cleared and the normal color replaced the red in his cheeks.

Here's my kid!  First thing he does at kindergarten is take a huge dump!!  When I told the story to Katy later, she mocked me with her mind-reading skills: "Oh MY GOD... it's like when you go into a book store and the info overload sends you running to the public restroom!!!"

It's funny because it's true.

I couldn't help it. I reached down and planted a kiss on the top of that kid's head.  "I love you so much, Jakey."

"Yeah," he said absentmindedly contemplating the status of his bowels.  The absurdity of the situation hit a peak as he obviously bared down one last time.  He relaxed his abdomen, shifted on the seat, took a short breath in and out, and I easily identified the cues- he had completed his business.

Looking up at me, he shrugged: "Can you believe I'm in kindergarten?!?" He asked excitedly.

Brief, awkward silence.

"Yes, baby.  I'm so proud of you," was the only thing I could think to say.

I've admitted it before, and I'll say it again, this kid is weird.  His moms are fine with it.  In fact his brand of quirky, honest sweetness is probably less weird than we are.  I'll sometimes tell him he's weird so he recognizes that word doesn't have to hurt: everybody is weird in some way(s).  I dread the day when someone makes him feel bad or insecure about the amazing things inside of him.

I hope that doesn't happen to him in Kindergarten.
I dream for him that when that does happen he has a good friend near him to reassure him that he doesn't need to make apologies for who he is.

Jake has a bunch of friends that he's gone to day care with for several years.  Today, KK shouted to him in the parking lot, "Thank you, Jacob!"

"You're welcome," he spouted over his shoulder as we all walked away from the bus.  When I asked him what he did that she was thanking him for he looked at me as if to say, "What the fuck are you talking about?"  It became crystal clear in that moment that this is just the beginning of me asking what I think is a perfectly legitimate question and him acting like I'm blind, deaf, and dumb.

Colin is Jake's BFF since he was 6 months old.  It's because of Jake and Colin that we are friends with Col's parents.  Now those kids are stuck with each other at least through high school, because Katy and I have really grown to love those dirtbags (Private joke).  When Jake asked us what a "kindred spirit" was recently (after the term came up in Puss in Boots) hearing the definition prompted him to report to us that Colin was his kindred spirit.  Sometimes the two boys greet each other with this term of endearment (sigh).

Life can be hard, even for kindergarteners.
I hope that he hits some bumps (even at this tender age) so he can start to grow confident in his ability to overcome challenges and obstables
I dream he'll have some good little peeps by his side reassuring him and giving him sound toddler advice.


***************
A few weeks ago, katy and I both picked Jake up from day care.  When the kids saw us come in together, it set off a sewing circle of banter among 4 four-year old girls.  They were working on some craft at a low-to-the-ground, circular table and the image in my peripheral vision was oddly similar to a group of old ladies gossiping while shucking peas- heads bent together, hands busy, absentminded familiarity with one another.  While I tried to get Jake to gather his things, I started to catch the content of their conversation:

Girl 1: Yeah, that's how it is.
Girl 2: He has two moms...
Girl 3: No dads...
Girl 1: No, he didn't come with one.
Girl 4: Not a dad in sight.
Girl 2: Nope, just only moms

Jake was oblivious and I realized that the arrival of the two moms simultaneously (when we usually took turns picking up our boys) likely prompted some solidification of the concepts that these little girls have been well aware of for a long time.

They weren't questioning the legitimacy of our family structure.  They weren't trash-talking.  Just hammering the points home to each other in a way that old friends might discuss the inevitability of an impending summer shower:

"Looks like rain"
"yessir, there's no way we're getting out of this one..."
"I guess we better bring the laundry in"
"These rains come and go"
"The sky is sure dark"
"It's been dry- we could really use the rain."

I hope that it will be sometime before Jake is exposed to a conversation where he realizes there are people in the world that have a problem with his family.
I hope if someone indicates there is something wrong with his family structure, there is a teacher (or one of those pea shuckers) right there on hand to immediately correct that lie
I dream we have a few years of solidifying his confidence before he gets a wiff of this part of the world from anywhere.


I didn't cry today. If it hasn't happened yet, I've probably avoided it.  But I wouldn't be surprised if it hit me later in the week or month.  Putting this kid out into the world,  further out of the sphere of our protective capabilities is humbling.  It makes me feel the intense weight of human vulnerability.    It makes me want to grab the break and slow down time a bit.  It makes me want to pray more.

Okay... there.  A few tears dripped down...
Is everyone happy now?

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."

Brainwashing and programming of summer memories

Pizza: Sally's
Major league baseball: Red Sox
Minor league baseball: (a tie) Dayton Dragons and the New Britain Rockcats
Pool or ocean: both!
Hot dogs: Blackies (though Glenwood is totally acceptable)
 

 

Milo: (takes a bite of hot dog and spits it out) I NO LIKE IT!
Mommy: (in the voice of a snake oil salesman) Yes, you do like it, of course you like it! That's a Blackies HOT DOG! We don't spit out Blackies hot dogs!!! Take another bite.
Milo: (takes another bite): I LIKE IT!
Mommy: Hooray!!!

 

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. 

Check your list twice...

While discussing gift-giving, and gift-receiving etiquette, something goes awry...

Jake: I hope Santa keeps a list... Because if I, like, ask for a Batman gift and he brings me, say, a Dora thing, I'll be like, "dude, I didn't ask for Dora..."

Halloween

There was a big snow storm 2 days before Halloween, so it really screwed things up for that holiday. Somehow, we had our costumes all worked out- well in advance... a miracle for these two somewhat-behind-schedule moms. Then it started to snow about 11am on Saturday. Big, wet flakes that accumulated to about a foot of heavy snow and took out a lot of trees and branches. We were out of power for 5 days- no heat, no electricity, and trick or treating was officially cancelled in our town. But we did dress them up: First from my sister's box of "extra dress up" Jake found his cousin, Cam's witch costume from 2 years ago.

(Jake and Cam are the same age- so that's why he looks a little too sexy for his clothes)

Man, he is Purr-dee... isn't he?!? I think he's very handsome, but he also makes a beautiful princess boy when he wants to!!!

Then, not to be outdone, Milo wanted to wear a dress. So, I couldn't resist putting him into this tiny-dog costume I found. It seemed cruel to undress him for it- we're not raising strippers here, after-all! So I put it on him OVER his clothes!

Awwwwww!

Then the main event... we dressed our boys in their "real costumes" and my sister's girls in the play things of their choice and headed out to the THREE houses in the dark that had candles in their windows.

These were taken at school this week...

The cutest panda ever!!!

Sweet-smile, slouchin' Superman...

Jake as "Clark Kent"

Brothers:

BONUS PIC:

I borrowed my dad's leaf blower and it dangled over the back seat a little. When I looked into the back, Jake had grabbed onto the handle. At the next glance, Milo was imitating him. The image made me laugh- as if they were human bungee cords, keeping the thing from rolling out of the hatchback.

:)

Conversations with kids: Birthday edition

Today is Milo's 2nd birthday.

We've been prepping him for several days:

Moms: Who's bday is tomorrow?
ML: Noooo
Moms: Milo's birthday is tomorrow!!!
ML: No, Mommy... Mama
Moms: Not our b-day... Milo's birthday

This morning, we snuck into his room before his brother was awake and with quiet enthusiasm sang "Happy Birthday" to him. He actually acted shy, smiling but sort of hiding his head with his arm; and then pointing to us and saying, "No... YOU... Mama... Mommy." It was some combination of:
"Why are you guys singing to me? I don't want a birthday, YOU have one..." and
"I'm not completely comfortable with this attention and recognition."

It was cute but confusing- this patten is a few days in the making. Milo, embarrassed?!? Could that be right? What does it all mean? But just so we know were we stand in the order of things, when Jake woke up, he approached Milo. In a sleepy (almost like an over-tired teenager) voice with a vaguest modicum of excitement, he scratched out a single (non-musical) phrase:
"Happy Birthday, Milo."

The response came without any hesitation. Completely pleased with his brother's acknowledgment, Milo gave a full grin, "Thank you, Jake-Jake".

(sigh)

I'm on the edge of Glory

For those of you that don't know, that is a Lady Gaga song... Edge of Glory - a song that our family is a bit obsessed with right now. I have an entire essay (vaguely outlined) inside me about how much I respect and adore Lady Gaga, and how if I can feel this way (as an older, mature, fairly "formed" female) I imagine you can multiply that by a million and barely score the surface of the desperate adoration experienced by millions of 12-20 year old women.

But that's a story for another day. Currently, I live with a (3-days-shy of) 2 year old who may simultaneously be Lady Gaga's biggest, youngest fan... and the ruin of her in my eyes. Milo*** won't let it go. He loves her. Her NEEDS her. And the little monster drives a hard bargain. When it comes to nagging us to play her music, he has the attention span and tenacity of Jane Goodall in the jungle. All he cares to listen to is Lady Gaga. And he is insistent. And I know you are thinking, "How can he know??? What does he really know about it???" But he does and he gets pissed if we try to listen to any other music. He acts heartbroken as if all other music is a compilation of dissonant chords and harmful to his dance-party way of life. For now, his parents are equally stubborn, and when we can't take another 50 rounds or 50 miles of Lady Gaga at the audio helm, we are getting used to listening to all other music with Milo screaming in the background:
LADY GAGA... LADY GAGA... PLEASE, MOMMY, MAMA... NO... NOW... GAGA...GAGA...WAAAAAAAAAHHH

(It goes on and on).

So, the title of the post also relates to my mood these days. I'm a little off-kilter; not sleeping enough; doing my best to balance. Finding myself needing to write more, but not writing. Finding myself needing to eat less, but eating like cRaZy. Finding myself wanting to exercise, but not turning the machine into high gear.

Despite what you just read, I'm pretty damn content with this life we are living right now. I am full of gratitude. I am amazed by my wife and our sons and basking in their glow. BUT... I am experiencing a fog of apprehension, and that familiar angst that comes with waiting too intently for the other shoe to drop.

The summer is fading, but it has been quite wonderful. Despite the fact that we experienced an earthquake (my first) and a tropical storm in the span of 5 days, we've had tremendous weather.

We’ve spent a lot of time this summer swimming and playing (and eating food) with friends and family… Some of that food has been seasonally fresh and healthy, and some of it char-grilled, processed, fried, and yummy (but very much the opposite of “good for you”- unless you are counting the “good for the soul” excuse that I keep coming back to.) We've had some terrific vacations: Ohio in July, Rhode Island in August...

This last week, though has found me in a bit of an angst-y, Don't-look-down-you've got-too far to fall melancholy.

To be fair, it's about to be autumn and I have a history of angst-y autumns at various times in my life. At this latitude, in this hemisphere in September and October, there is a very specific change in the angle of sunlight. The time of sunset sprints back toward the afternoon. It is still “summer” during the day, but the temperature plummets 20 degrees by a few hours after dark. You can close your eyes and smell the air (before more than a dozen leaves have changed color) and know you are breathing the first breaths of autumn. You could be in 80 degree sunshine, but know that shifting glare on the horizon means that the summer warmth will dissipate after dark.

Today is September 11th. I just finished watching the season finale of True Blood (a totally f'd up TV show that I can't quit) and about 2 hours of 9/11 "never forget" coverage. And I can't help but wonder, who is that slogan for? Isn't forgetting required a little in order to heal. I got my first glimpse of the WTC memorial and I just sort of burst into tears- it was the visual of the pools- water plunging down into the footprint of the original towers. I couldn't help but think of those people that jumped. I'm not one to get overly sentimental, but something about firefighters dying will always cause me to come a little unglued I think.

It's not just Sept 11th...

Last week, a 4 1/2 year old boy (a friend of a friend's kid) drowned in a neighbor's pool. The parents are a lesbian couple. The kids were with a sitter at the time of the accident. Feel the weight of that devastation for a moment.

Next week, the trial is about to begin for the second man who was caught in the act of, and then confessed to, robbing, pummeling, sexually assaulting, and murdering our friends one summer night in their own home FOUR years ago. But until the end of this trial we have to keep saying he "allegedly" did these things. His team of lawyers seems even more desperate and untrustworthy as he has shown himself to be. I know they have their job to do. But this guy is the one that is going show himself to be some kind of real SOB and I know you are going to have to put up with a little ranting from me in the coming weeks...

Then, there's Jake*** and Milo*** with their impressive, end-of-summer tan lines, and their ever-expansive brains and sharp observations of the world, and their little perfect bodies growing out of toddler-hood and baby-hood respectively. I know they are still young, but they are already growing up. And it's hard to imagine how we will continue to keep them safe when we know so much about how things can go wrong in the world.

There was a festival in town this weekend- food, fun, crafts, music (sorry, Milo, that the Marching Band, did NOT have any Gaga). One tent set up by a local insurance company was producing "kid ID kits". While you waited there, they took photos and fingerprinted your children. I wanted to do this because I can't imagine anything scarier than needing this data and not actually having it available. The entire time I was under this tent (probably 20 minutes for both boys) I felt like I might burst into tears. It was so anxiety producing to complete a kit that would help us if one of the boys disappeared, that it was actually hard not to mutter "never mind" and just run away from there. I felt as if someone was choking me and telling me a really sad story at the same time.

But you should see Milo*** in gymnastics class... and you should see Jake*** in ballet and tap and t-ball. It's a trick of the mind to worry about what bad might happen, when there is so much good happening all around. And I think it's a fool's choice to give into worry, when there is so much celebrating to do. These are the heroic lives we lead- planning a little for the worst, but doubting it will ever come and doing so with such loving intention that, that you make your kids feel all the safety the world may or may not offer.

Two more...

These are older videos:

From May 2010..



and from Dec 2009...

Brothers at play

Katy took this video of the boys at the park last night.
I just love it!
I love the way it is shot at their level...
I love that it is just them...
This is exactly how they are right now-
JB is at his best when he is running with, entertaining, and/or coaching his brother.
ML (as he has since he first learned to laugh) reserves his most genuine, heartfelt laugh for his brother.

I have this joke that I tell when people ask what the boys are like:
"In the worst case scenario," I say, "JB will grow up jealous and sullen that his brother doesn't follow the rules, and gets to have so much fun... And ML," there I pause for dramatic effect, "Will end in prison... But, if all goes well, they will keep each other in balance."




I love ML's sheer joy.
And I love the part where JB says, "Get up here, Mi..."

I think this video clearly shows how well the balancing act works so far.
(sigh)

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!!!

Spring has sprung...

Today we walk out of the house and JB notices there are daffodils in full bloom at the end of the driveway. "LOOK!" He shouts, "There are flowers now."

These have been growing for a few days/weeks, but he apparently just noticed them and felt they had sprung up overnight. We walk (ML waddles) down toward the mailbox and I'm talking about spring-

Mommy: These flowers are called daffodils... They are the first sign of spring. When the winter is over, and the plants and grass get enough rain, everything starts to turn green again and flowers start to bloom, that is called spring.

JB: (nodding, starts to take over the teacher role) Yes, it is spring because there is no more snow, and the flowers are growing... Smell the flowers, ML

ML: (bends over the 3 inches it takes to shove his nose near the flowers and sniffs obligingly)

JB: They are real nice, mom... (then he starts muttering to no one in particular) I don't see any pollen... I don't knew, maybe the bees took it out already... nope, none in there either... there should be pollen... hmmm...

Bahahahahhahahhahahahhah...

He just went on and on reviewing everything he knows about pollination and flowers and bees! I might have found it less amusing except I know I haven't taught him about this, so the explanations came as if from a book they read to him at school.

I don't know WTF he thinks pollen looks like, but apparently he knows it when he sees it (or when he doesn't)... I'm not sure there is anything funnier than a tiny mammal muttering so matter-of-factly about science and biology

Qunitisential ML

ML had his 18 month well baby visit yesterday.

I took a half day to bring him and was rewarded with several hours of ML being ML. This kid can be a holy terror, but he is as sweet as pie and funny and charming and beautiful.

In the waiting room at the pediatric practice, he was sweet and playful and looking for an audience. Making eyes at everyone that walked in, he would frequently stare at an individual until s/he locked eyes with him. And then once ML was sure they were all watching, he'd go on playing as if he didn't just command everyone's attention with his eyes and put himself on display. It was adorable to watch and hard to believe that the entire scene was contingent on my presence. He puts on a good act of "Mr. Independence". Even I am sometimes duped into believing the character sketch that he writes- that he would be this interactive among strangers, even if one of his parents wasn't present. But experience has taught me that he is shy when outnumber by strangers...

When it was time to go into the exam room, he tensed up a bit. He let me undress him and then when I put him on the scale, he started wailing. It was the first cue to him that something would be expected of him. He comforted quickly and easily and readjusted.

When Dr. L came in, ML made sweet faces, but was acting with subtle nervousness, pulling nervously at his diaper, etc. Then he relaxed a bit again. When ML relaxes, "Sr Destruction" will sometimes appear. He all but ransacked the exam room, around and around, opening cabinets, and drawers, doors and the garbage... Up, down, Up, down... crawling around, touching everything, pushing every button he could find, etc.

He did his tricks:
1) How old are you ML? (holds up one finger)
2) How much does Mommy/Mama love you (stretches his arms wide)
3) What does "cold" look like? (holds tight fists near his face, and shivers)
4) What does "hot" look like? (put hands in front of face like saying "stop" and forms "aaaaa" with his mouth)
5) Where's your belly, mouth, eyes, nose, ears, hair, etc (he points)
6) Give her "the Look" (he drops his chin to his neck, puts his lips into a pout, and looks up at you from under his forehead and bangs)

During the physical exam, started crying when she looked in his ears, and lost it after the vaccination was administered. I cuddled him and whispered that he was okay. I asked him to thank his doctor, and he quickly signed "thank you" through tear-streaked cheeks without a break in the whimpering. He recovered by the time he was dressed, and was back in full "ladies man mode" for our trip back through the waiting room. As we walked out, I heard a girl about 6 years old say, "I liked that boy, he was really cute."

The kid can tear a room apart in 3.5 seconds, but he really is a superstar!

Vital stats:
Weight: 25lbs, 10 oz (50th percentile)
Ht: 34" (90th percentile)

You

Overheard at bedtime

After several bedtime stories, including the one about the Little Nutbrown Hare.
Katy tucked JB into bed, with parting words of love, she offered:

KT: I love you to the moon and back.
(pause, pause)
JB: I love you to the neighbor's house...

Sometimes I swear this kid says anything just to shut us up!!!

My kids are cute

...And loyal blog watchers should not have to see the Title "ARMED GUNMAN" every time they check the GSO.

I am working on a few posts
(including Part 2)

But for now, this is how my boys looked on St Patrick's day:


JB at 41 months old:




ML at 17 months old:

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)