Friday, December 28, 2012

Poop In The Tub

One fine day before Christmas, Son #2 was enjoying a warm and refreshing bath.  He played with his duckies and choo choo trains.  He tossed the wash cloths out onto the floor.  Son #2 was having a grand old time.

Sometimes, I laughed and talked to him as he played.  Other times, I would browse through a magazine.  While flipping through the magazine pages, I happened to look up and noticed Son #2 had stopped playing.

There he stood, hands gripping the edge of the tub.  His face was tense and slightly red.  He made little grunting noises.  For a second, I wondered what was happening.  Then, I realized he was about to poop in the tub. 

NOOOOOO!!!!!!  NOT POOP IN THE TUB!!!!!!

I scrambled to grab Son #2 before the poo splashed into the water.  As I lifted him into the air, I glanced at his rear below and beheld a turd about to fall.  Quickly, I rushed him to the potty chair. 

______!!!!!!  THE LID WAS DOWN!!!!!!

My foot fumbled with the lid of the potty chair as I held Son #2 in outstretched arms.  The lid finally lifted and I swooped him toward the seat.  Just before he landed, the turd fell in an arc to the floor.

I hung my head in defeat. 

Son #2 laughed and clapped on the potty. 

I reached for toilet paper and cleaning supplies.

I guess I should be grateful that the poop had a near miss with the tub and not a direct hit.

Skills

A few weeks ago, we went downtown to check out the water gardens.  The weather was perfect with its cool, light breeze and gentle sun shining down upon us.  The kids were amazed by the waterfalls, pools, fountains, and structures. 

One particular structure caught Son #1's attention.  This structure is named The Mountain.  The Mountain juts into the air with its narrow ledges that are tempting for anyone to climb.  My husband, Son #1, Son #1's Tio, and I gave in quickly to the temptation and scaled the ledges to the top.

At the top, Son #1 raced across the peaks with joy.  His Tia, who had climbed up a gentler slope, warned him to be careful.  My husband chased Son #1 up and down one of the slopes as he laughed and screamed. 

Soon, it was time to explore more of the garden.  Most of the group slowly made their way down The Mountain ledges.  Son #1 was not so cautious.  He hopped from ledge to ledge without a care in the world. 

Tia chided.  "Be careful.  You don't want to fall and hurt yourself."

Son #1 confidently responded.  "It's OK.  I'VE GOT SKILLS."

Then with the grace of Dall Sheep on Alaskan mountains, Son #1 danced down the rest of The Mountain.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Chasing Moths

One evening, Son #2 was up late resisting sleep.  My mom stopped by to pick up my brother and we all sat down to talk for a while.  Son #2 toddled around the room fully aware that he had won the "night night" battle.

Suddenly, Son #2 spotted a moth flitting around the living room.  He stopped to gaze at this tiny creature.  A smile formed on his little mouth.  He giggled and began to chase the moth. 

The moth lilted from the sofa to the coffee table completely unaware of the danger that lay behind it.  The moth lingered on the corner.  Son #2 crept up to the moth and patted it lightly.  The moth sailed away in fright.  Fortunately, the frail moth was not damaged.  Son #2 followed the moth's path with his eyes and watched it settle onto the piano.  Then, he ran to catch the intriguing little creature with glee.

This game continued on for a while until I felt pity for the poor little moth.  Gently, I scooped my avid moth chaser into my arms and cuddled him close to me.  He sighed and gave me a kiss on the cheek.  Then, Son #2 rested his head against my shoulder as he gave in to sleep.

Night night and sleep tight.

Friday, December 14, 2012

Silly Humans

Son #2 has learned to clap and wave. 

One Saturday afternoon while spending time with our extended family, Son #2 decided he would show off his new skills.  His eyes sparkled as he stood to clap.  Instantaneously, everyone in the room joined him in clapping and cheered for his new found skill.  Son #2 beamed with pride and babbled about his accomplishment. 

A few moments later, Son #2 began to clap again.  Once again, we joined him clapping and cheering.  Son #2 chattered and laughed. 

Seconds after his big clapping bonanza, Son #2 began to wave and say.  "Bye bye."  We oohed and ahhed.  Then, we began to wave as well. 

Realizing his awesome power over us, Son #2 immediately started clapping again.  We all began to imitate his clapping at once until his Tio (Uncle) commented.  "You know...Son #2 is probably thinking. 'Look at these guys.  They do everything I want them to do.  Silly humans.'"

The Stairs

One lovely and crisp fall day, we went to Abuelita's (Grandma's) to have lunch.  Son #1 was thrilled to be there and immediately raced up the stairs to play with the toys in the playroom.  My husband, Son #2, and I joined the rest of the family downstairs as my mom and sister put the finishing touches on the meal.  From downstairs, we could hear Son #1's little voice talking away in his imaginative play.

Finally, the food was done and Abuelita called out to Son #1 and my brother.  "Hey guys!  The food is ready!  Come down and eat!"

Son #1 shouted.  "I'm coming!"

My brother appeared at the top of the stairs and made his way down to the kitchen.  However, Son #1 was lingering upstairs.  I called out to him.  "Hurry Baby!  We're hungry!"

We waited for a few minutes and then noticed Son #1 creeping to the top of the stairs.  My sister said.  "What are you doing?"

Son #1 replied.  "Nothing."

My husband retorted impatiently.  "Hurry and get down here.  What are you waiting for?  New Years?"

Son #1 giggled and stood up.  To our surprise, he had stripped down to his shirt and underwear.  We blinked a bit as Son #1 proceeded to slide on his stomach down the stairs.  With our eyebrows arched, we watched him cruise toward the kitchen.  Son #1 nonchalantly joined us at the table. 

Apparently, Son #1 had decided to make himself VERY comfortable at Abuelita's house.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Climbing, Climbing, Climbing

Son #2 is learning to climb...everything.  Nothing in our house is safe.  We can not leave him alone in any room for a second before he begins his ascent of whatever is in front of him.  Maybe for Christmas, I will buy him a climbing rope, shoes, chalk, and carabiners.  An ice axe may also help my adventurous toddler in his quest to the top of anything in our house.  He is definitely my husband's son.  Somewhere out there, my mother-in-law is laughing with delight and a tiny dose of revenge.

Yesterday, Son #2 learned to climb onto the couch.  He struggled with the task as he persistently swung his left leg up to the top of the seat cushion.  Little screams of frustration erupted over and over again.  I watched with mild amusement.  However, I was not going to help him. 

I know that climbing is just another step in child development but it is also destructive to my knick knacks and lamps.  All I want for Christmas is for my breakable items to survive this climbing phase.

Friday, November 23, 2012

Cheerios

Son #2 was sitting in his high chair eating Cheerios as I  unloaded the dishwasher the other day.  He savored each delicious bite with half closed eyelids and a look of pure joy on his face.  When he ran out of Cheerios.  He babbled.  "More."

I cheerfully walked over to the pantry and retrieved the bag of Cheerios.  Then, I poured a good sized portion onto his tray.  Son #2 beamed with excitement.  He popped a few Cheerios into his mouth and then swished both hands across his tray.  Cheerios flew across the tray from all directions onto the floor.  I patiently bent over to pick up the scattered cereal.  Then, I went back to the dishwasher.

As I continued to put dishes away, Son #2 inspected the Cheerios in front of him.  Sometimes, he placed a Cheerio into his mouth.  Then, he got a mischievous twinkle in his eye.  His tiny hands swished across his tray again and scattered Cheerios onto the floor.  I glanced over my shoulder and took in his handiwork.  I sighed and once again picked up the mess. 

Son #2 leaned over his high chair as I bent down to clean.  He giggled with glee and swished his tray with a vengeance.  I looked up in time to see a spray of Cheerios fly over my head.  This time I muttered to him and myself.  "What in the world."

Son #2 was not done with his fun yet.  As soon as he saw me bend over to gather the Cheerios, he chortled and sent the remaining pieces flying off his tray.  I stood straight up and said.  "That's it stinker!  You're all done."

Sadly, I said that a bit too late.

Cat Observations

A couple days ago, Son #1 was chatting to my husband and I about the difference between little boys and cats.  He was in the process of showering and getting dressed when he stated.  "I'm naked and I have to put on clothes."

We nodded our heads and his dad shouted.  "You're right!  Hurry up, son!"

Son #1 busied himself with his clothing and then yelled out.  "But cats aren't naked.  They have fur on."

I paused for a moment and wrinkled my brow.  The conversation had taken a weird turn.

Then, Son #1 continued.  "Yeah.  Since cats have fur, they don't have to get dressed."

"Uh huh."  His dad and I replied.

"And they don't have to take showers either.  They just lick themselves."  Son #1 announced from the bathroom.

You're observations are correct, Son #1.  However, you still need to take baths and get dressed.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

No! You Fall Asleep!

When Son #2 is sleepy, he usually cries.  "I want my ba!" 

While he is whimpering, I run to the kitchen to prepare his bottle.  Then, I scoop my little baby into my arms and settle down on the couch with his bottle. 

Son #2 coos while his sleepy eyes droop dreamily.  I begin to rub his eyes and eyebrows as his body relaxes in my arms.  The lights are low and everyone talks in hushed whispers.  Usually, Son #2 will finish his bottle, hand the bottle to me, and then announce.  "All done."  Then, he closes his eyes, turns to hug me, and falls asleep.

Sometimes, Son #2 does not want to fall asleep even though he is very tired.  While I rub his eyes and eyebrows, Son #2 forces his eyes open, holds his bottle with one hand, and proceeds to rub MY EYES with the other hand. 

I think that is Son #2's way of saying.  "No! You fall asleep!"

Chinese News Network

When Son #1 was three, we had satellite TV.  This was a wonderful waste of time because we could amuse ourselves with a variety of fun shows.  Sadly, this was also around the time the recession hit our family with ferocity.  In order to save money, we reduced our plan a few times until we had only 10 channels and a $20 monthly bill.  One of those channels was the Chinese News Network. 

Son #1 loved to fall asleep while watching either the DISH Earth channel or the NASA channel.  Both were soothing to look at during nap time.  Sometimes after nap, he would ask to watch TV.  Knowing that there was really nothing to watch, I would ask mischievously.  "What do you want to watch?"

Son #1 would reply.  "I don't know."

I ran through the options.  "Well, do you want to watch some of the shopping networks, DISH Earth, NASA, or Chinese News Network?"

Son #1 pondered the question thoughtfully and then shouted.  "Chinese News Network!  Chinese News Network!"

So, we kept up with current events in China.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Mr. Screamy

Son #2 has discovered his voice.  He screams when he's happy.  He screams when he's sad.  He screams when he's hungry.  He screams when he's tired.  He even screams when his older brother teases him.  Well, maybe the last reason for screaming is warranted.

When Son #2 screams, it reminds me of pterodactyls in flight searching for prey.  Once while at church, Son #2 decided he wanted to get down from the pew and run down the aisle.  We tried patting and bouncing him to distract him.  Sadly, Son #2 could not be dissuaded. 

Just as a lovely lady began to sing, Son #2 began to shriek.  My husband and I pulled out every shiny object we could find.  Son #2 would coo at the shiny object for a moment but then begin to screech again.  I quickly bundled up the little pterodactyl and rushed him to the mother's room where restless children can fidget and play.  With a sigh of relief, I released Mr. Screamy and plopped onto a rocking chair.  Mr. Screamy morphed back into my sweet and quiet baby boy.

It's amazing how babies can shriek when you need them to be quiet.  It is equally amazing how babies immediately become quiet as mice when you put them somewhere so they can make a lot of noise.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Thanksgiving Turkey Banana

The other day, Son #1 and I were working on a project for his kindergarten class.  Each child was sent home with a paper turkey and instructions to disguise the turkey so it would not be eaten.  Before starting our project, I turned to Son #1 and asked.  "How should we hide the turkey?  What should we make him be?"

My son pondered the question for a moment and then replied.  "A banana!"

I drew a banana costume for our turkey friend, cut it out, and then glued it on.  Son #1 ran to his room to retrieve his markers.  When he returned to the kitchen, we began to color the banana yellow.  Midway through the project, I commented.  "This is a pretty good costume.  Now the turkey won't get eaten."

Son #1 agreed but then his head popped up.  "Wait a second!  A banana is a fruit!  Our turkey IS going to get eaten!"

I almost busted a gut laughing.  Then I suggested.  "We need a sign."

Our sign fixed the situation perfectly.







Saturday, November 10, 2012

Vote For Daddy! Oh Wait! Don't.

Prior to the election, we were not enamored by the red and blue options for president.  My husband and I would privately joke about writing in my husband's name on the ballot.

My eldest son would listen intently and then announce.  "Yeah R______ and O______ suck.  I'm gonna vote for my dad!"

My husband and I would giggle and then agree.  "Yeah!  They suck.  Let's vote for your dad!"

One day on the way home from school, my husband and son talked about the elections that were coming up.

Son #1 got tears in his eyes and asked.  "Daddy, if you become president will you move away?"

My husband looked at our eldest son with a tiny bit of shock and said.  "What?"

Son #1 said.  "I don't want you to become president because if you do you'll have to leave us."  Then the tears rolled down his sweet face.

My husband turned to Son #1 and reassured him.  "Son, I won't run for president.  I'm going to stay here with you guys instead."

Daddy may not be president but he's definitely Son #1's hero.





Friday, November 2, 2012

Bad Sorry!

Son #1 and his Tio (Uncle) were playing with a particular feature on the cell phone.  This particular feature is nicknamed Sorry because she is very bad at following instructions. 

Tio and Tia (Aunt) had just returned from a fabulous vacation in St. Croix.  Son #1 wanted to know more about St. Croix so Tio spoke to Sorry in a commanding voice.  "St. Croix."  Son #1 and Tio waited with anticipation as Sorry searched the web.  However, what Sorry found was not St. Croix.

Sorry's metallic voice blurted out.  "F**kslut!"

Tio yelled out in shock.  "Stupid Sorry!"

Son #1 reprimanded.  "OH!  We don't say that!"

Tio looked at Son #1 with a sort of sheer terror only uncles can feel when they have taught their nephew a four letter word.  "We don't say what??"

Son #1 replied innocently.  "We don't say stupid!"  Then with a confused look on his face, my eldest son asked.  "What did the phone say?"

Tio responded.  "Uh...nothing."

Son #1 wanted to play some more and questioned his Tio with new excitement on his face.  "Can we ask the phone another question?"

Tio said quickly.  "No.  Sorry is broken.  We'll have to play with something else."


Procedure of the Day: Burp Then Clap

Son #2 has learned to clap.  Whenever my husband and I say "What a good boy!" or "Yay!", Son #2 smiles and claps with all his might.

The other day, our sweet baby finished a hearty supper and began to play rambunctiously around the house.  He climbed, ran, rolled and dodged things (and his older brother) all while laughing hysterically. 

In the middle of the rowdy play, Son #2 let out a HUGE burp.  He stopped with a shocked look on his face but only for a second.  Then, a grin surfaced and he began to clap.

My husband cracked up and shouted.  "What a good boy!"

I giggled and yelled out.  "Yay!"

Son #2 clapped even harder.  He is all boy.


Sunday, October 28, 2012

Wild Kratts

Son #1 loves to watch a show called The Wild Kratts.  It is a cute show about two brothers who study and rescue animals.

One day while eating supper, Son #1 began to tell me about the Kratt brothers' latest adventure.  He detailed how they cared for the peregrine falcon.  I sat in rapt wonder about my son's knowledge of falcons.  Then Son #1 said.  "Wouldn't it be cool if Son #2 and I were the Kratt brothers?"

"That would be cool."  I responded with a smile.

"Yeah and my baby bro's name could be Martin and my name could be Chris!"  He exclaimed with glee.

(For those not familiar with the Kratt brothers, their names are Martin and Chris.)

"That sounds cool."  I said.  "But what would be even cooler is if you were the Wild Stumphs."

Son #1 looked at me with eyes crossed and chortled.  "That's just silly.  We can't be the Wild Kratts if we're the Wild Stumphs."

Saturday, October 27, 2012

What's Wrong With Your Legs?

After eating lunch with family, we all sat around the house talking as the kids played with toys.  It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon and we were still dressed up from church that morning.  My sister was wearing black tights with a very stylish dress.  Son #1 came around the corner and noticed my sister's legs.  He rubbed her leg curiously and asked.  "Why are your legs black?"

My sister replied.  "I'm wearing nylons."  She continued to carry on her conversation with the rest of the adults in the room.

Son #1 looked perplexed and continued to rub her leg.  He kept inching higher and higher trying to figure out what nylons were and why her legs did not look like his mommy's.  Finally, he lifted up her dress to see how high the nylons went.  My sister said in shocked consternation.  "What are you doing??"

Son #1 shrugged and sheepishly said.  "I don't know."

My sister asked.  "Are you trying to see how high the nylons go?"  She snapped the waist band of her nylons and explained.  "They are like your pants.  They go all the way up to my waist."

Son #1 looked at her and said.  "Oh."  He was still confused.  You could see the big question marks hanging over his head.

My sister laughed and said.  "I guess your mommy doesn't wear nylons."

To which I replied.  "Nope."

Friday, October 26, 2012

The Dance

Son #2 loves music.  He loves to play with the piano, the drums, and the guitars.  He also loves to dance and will bounce up and down while looking over his shoulder.

The other day, my husband and I were watching a movie.  Son #2 was running willy-nilly around the room playing with his toys.  All of a sudden, a hip hop song began to play.  Son #2 stopped, ran toward the TV, held the table, and began to bop up and down.  He slyly looked over his shoulder at us, laughed, and began to dance even faster.

Watching Son #2 dance is hysterical.  However, capturing his dance on video eludes us most of the time.  His dance is our unicorn.

Well, we've finally captured our unicorn, baby!  Check out his saggy pants.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8fWg6rbHMMI&feature=vmdshb






Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better

Have you ever heard of these lyrics?

Anything you can do I can do better...
I can do anything better than you...
No you can't!
Yes I can! No you can't!
Yes I can! No you can't!
Yes I can!
Yes I can!

Sometimes, I can see Son #2 and Son #1 in a competitive dance for total domination of their little world.

Tonight, Son #1 sat on his little red chair eating his soup at the coffee table.  Son #2 eyed it with utter fascination.  When Son #1 got up from his chair to sit on the couch with his soup, Son #2 scrambled down from my lap.  He toddled to the chair and climbed up onto it.

There he sat perched like a cat on a tree limb waiting for the next bird to fly by.  He shifted his weight from leg to leg debating whether to stand up and walk on the table. 

Son #1 sat down beside him on the floor.  He and his little brother chatted in their little language.  Son #2 was getting a little wobbly on the red chair, so I asked for a favor.  "Son #1, could you get your little brother off the chair?"

Son #1 obediently and carefully lifted his baby brother from the red chair to the floor.  At first, Son #2 smiled and cooed but then Son #1 sat down in his chair.  Son #2 was incensed.  He let out a sharp scream to which Son #1 replied.  "No, baby bro!"

Son #2 screamed again.  Son #1 said loudly.  "No, baby bro!"

They went back and forth for a time until I could not take it any longer.  I said.  "Son #1, if you will get up, I will take your chair to your room."  Son #1 scrambled to the couch and I quickly scooped the red chair from the floor.  I walked quickly to the room with Son #2 close on my heels.  He let out one final scream as I popped the chair out of his reach.  He stretched his hand towards the elusive chair but was prohibited from grasping it by the almighty Baby Gate. 

Ah, little boys, you have the song all wrong.  It goes like this.

Anything either one of you can do...
Mommy always does better...
Heh heh!

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Skipping Rocks

One Saturday afternoon, I got a bug to go down to the lake.  I begged and cajoled my husband until he finally obliged me.  As we drove, storm clouds crept along the horizon towards our car.  Halfway to our destination, it began to sprinkle.  Fortunately, it never broke out into a full down pour.

When we arrived at the lake, the kids put on their life jackets and ran to the water.  Son #1 hopped like a frog over rocks and twigs.  He splashed about from boulder to boulder.  The water was cold but that did not seem to stop him.  Son #2 and I picked our way across the shore line.  Son #2 was determined to walk across rocks just like his big brother.

While the boys and I amused ourselves, my husband went in search of the perfect skipping rocks.  He spied a treasure trove of them and called Son #1 over to him.  My husband gave Son #1 a mini lesson on skipping rocks.  Then, they proceeded to send them skimming across the water.  Jealous of their fun, I ran over to get in on the action.

There is nothing better than skipping rocks on a beautiful Saturday afternoon with two little boys and a handsome husband.





Animal Race

One Saturday afternoon, Son #1 played with some plastic toy animals on our coffee table.  As he lined them up to race, he assigned my husband and I to the lion and giraffe.  Naturally, Son #1 was the bear. 

The animals raced along the coffee table track.  My husband's lion pulled ahead with Son #1's bear in a close second.  I lagged in fifth place.  The drama ensued as the lion and bear jockeyed for first place.  Sadly, my giraffe fell further and further behind.

Son #1 shouted with excitement.  "Dad, I'm winning and you're right behind me!"

My husband replied.  "Cool son!  Where's your mama?"

Son #1 said.  "Oh, she's in last place."

In mock irritation, I demanded.  "Hey!  Why do I have to lose?  I wanna win, too!"

Son #1 saw the error of his ways and stated.  "Ok Mama.  You're catching up.  You're rounding the corner.  Bam!  Bam!  Oooh!  You wrecked Dad!  Good job, Mama!  Now you're in first place!"

"Sweet!"  I replied with satisfaction.

He's a good son.

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Want Ba?

Sundays are our lazy days.  Son #1 was playing a pirate game on the computer and Son #2 was exploring his toys. 

That morning, Son #1 shouted from his perch at the computer.  "Mama, I'm hungry."

I was curled up on the couch watching I Love Lucy and shouted a reply.  "Hang on a second."

Slowly, I removed my self from the couch and meandered to the kitchen.  Once there, I yelled.  "What do you want Son?"

He replied.  "I don't know."

I sighed and went down the list of possibilities.  "Do you want cereal?"

Son #1 quickly responded.  "No."

"Do you want a sandwich?"  I offered.

"No."  Son #1 said.

"Do you want a cheese burrito?"  I shouted.

"No."  Son #1 stated.

"Do you want an apple?"  I yelled with a sigh.

"No."  Son #1 shouted.

"What DO you want?"  I asked a little irritated.

Then, I heard a tiny baby suggest.  "BA!"  (Translation:  Bottle)

If you can't make up your mind on what you want for breakfast, Son #2 recommends you try a Ba. 

Friday, October 19, 2012

Junk in the Trunk

One sunny afternoon, my husband and I sat in the living room talking and laughing.  Son #1 played outside in the backyard while Son #2 ran around the house chewing on various toys.  On one of Son #2's flybys, a foul smell assaulted our noses.

My husband turned to me and said.  "I think we have a poop diaper."

"Man, I don't want to change it this time.  I'm so tired."  I whined.

"Fine."  He said grumpily.  "But you have to help me."

"Alright."  I said in a growly voice.

My husband took our stinky baby to his room and announced.  "Change you!"

Usually, Son #2 lies down and patiently waits while we fix him up.  That afternoon was not one of those times.  Before my husband could get his diaper off, Son #2 rolled away and took off like a streak of lightening down the hallway.  As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, we caught a glimpse of his heavily loaded diaper swaying wildly.

There was definitely plenty of junk in our baby's trunk.

Yuck.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The Telephone

One night, my husband and I  were sitting on the couch talking and watching a show on the television.  Son #2 toddled toward us with his toy phone.  He wanted our attention so he fussed and tossed the toy phone onto my lap.

I picked up the phone, put it to my ear, and said.  "Hello, hello?  Oh hi!  How are you?  Oh, you want to talk to Son #2.  Hang on a second."

I put the phone next to our little baby's ear and pressed the talk button.  The toy phone chirped.  "Hello?"

Son #2's eyes grew wide and he smiled with delight.  Then, he began to babble to the tiny voice inside the phone.

When he was through, he handed the phone back to me.  I placed the phone on my ear and chatted to my imaginary friend.  "Uh huh.  Oh really.  That is so interesting.  Uh huh.  Uh huh.  Oh, you want to talk to Son #2 again.  O.k.  Here he is."

Son #2 leaned his head toward the phone and listened.  The phone announced.  "Let's sing!"

I pressed the button on the phone again and the tiny voice in the phone sang the ABC song.  Son #2 was thrilled.  He clapped his hands and babbled to his new found friend.  I pressed the button once more and the phone said.  "Love you!"

Son #2 replied in baby talk.  "I love you, too."

We love you, too Little Goo!

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Crotch!

The other day, we had a birthday lunch for Abuelita (Grandma).  All of Abuelita's children and grandchildren sat around the large table in the restaurant talking and laughing.  One of the conversations took a very interesting turn.

Tia (Aunt) directing her question to Son #1:  How was school yesterday?

Son #1:  Good.  We took pictures.

Tia:  Oh really.

Son #1:  Yeah.  And my pants broke.

Tia:  Where did they break?

Son #1:  What?

Tia:  Did they break on the zipper or the crotch?

Son #1 in his voice that carries across restaurant establishments:  CROTCH!

Awesome.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Toothbrush Fascination

Son #2 has eight baby teeth.  He also has a Lightening McQueen toothbrush.  Very fancy!  Son #2 is learning to brush his teeth.  Most of the time he just sucks on his toothbrush.

The other day while straightening up the bathroom, I handed my little baby his toothbrush.  He admired it for a time and then stuck it into his mouth.  As he sucked on his toothbrush, he toddled around the bathroom and patted various items.  The items he investigated around the bathroom did have some allure to them but he was always drawn back to his toothbrush.

I had just finished tidying up.  I knelt down and smiled at Son #2.  Then, I stuck out my hand to retrieve the toothbrush and said.  "My turn."

Son #2 eyed me with suspicion and back away.  I lightly placed my hand on the toothbrush and chided.  "Son, I have to put the toothbrush away."

Son #2 held on tightly to his toothbrush and pouted.  I gently took the toothbrush from his little hands and said.  "Let's go play with some toys."

Son #2 did not like my idea at all and began to cry.  I hugged him and carried him to his room.  We sat down on the rug and tried to find a toy that was more interesting than his toothbrush.  Son #2 tossed every toy that I handed him away.  Finally, I stood up and said.  "Baby, you can't run around the house with a toothbrush in your mouth all day long."

To that Son #2 replied.  "Ba."  (Translation:  Bottle)

I guess Son #2 has figured out that he can run around with a "Ba" in his mouth.


Monday, October 8, 2012

Cornbread

A few weeks ago, we sat down to enjoy some really delicious cornbread and vegetable soup.  As I was relishing my soup, Son #1 looked at me with his puppy dog eyes and asked.  "Mama, can I have your cornbread?" 

"Of course!"  I replied.  I gave him mine and then went to get another.

Son #1 savored his soup and cornbread with a look of pure joy on his face.  When he was done, he went off to play.

A few days later, we sat down to some vegetable soup and scrumptious cornbread.  Again as I sipped my soup with delight, Son #1 batted his long eyelashes and asked.  "Mama, can I have your cornbread?"

I smiled and replied.  "Sure baby." 

Son #1 bit off the top of the cornbread muffin.  I was just about to get another piece of cornbread for myself when I heard a little voice say.  "Here Mama.  You can have it back."

"Do you not want it?"  I questioned.

"No.  You know I don't like cornbread."  Son #1 stated in a matter-of-fact voice.

????

Yeah.  I'm confused.  Five year old kids are fickle things.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Bye Squeaky

Son #2 is wearing shoes when he walks.

One early morning, we put on a pair of new summery shoes.  He bent over to admire them and then took his first tentative steps.  His shoes squeaked.  Son #2 stopped and investigated them again.  He stood and took a few more steps.

Squeak.

Squeak.

Squeak. 

Son #2 laughed as he ran all over the house.  It wasn't a regular sprint either.  Son #2 was purposefully stomping as he ran causing his shoes to squeak with intensity.

Fifteen to twenty minutes of nonstop squeaking passed.  A sweaty little baby raced from room to room shrieking with joy.  While all this ruckus was happening, our eldest son was getting ready to go to school.

Son #1 grabbed his backpack and lunch bag.  He followed his dad to the garage door.  Just before he walked through the door, Son #1 turned to his younger brother and shouted.  "BYE SQUEAKY!"

Son #2 stopped and grinned at his brother.  Then with a squeal of laughter, he was off again.


Friday, October 5, 2012

The Gun Fight

Imagine, if you will, two maverick gun fighters wielding their imaginary finger guns close to their sides as they hide behind door frames and walls.  Tension hangs in the air.  You can almost hear the theme song of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly just before the gun battle begins.

Son #1 narrows his eyes.  I crouch down as low as my post surgery body will allow.  In an instant, Son #1 leaps over toys in the living room and sprints down the hallway to begin his attack.  Like a cobra, I strike spraying imaginary bullets at my miniature attacker.  My little boy dives to the ground and rolls away all while firing his pretend finger gun at me.  I hobble semi-quickly and hide behind furniture in the baby's room.

All is silent.  A fan blows a stray dust bunny down the hallway.  Who will be victorious?  Only time will tell.

My money is on Son #1.


Thursday, October 4, 2012

Star of the Day!

The other day, Son #1 came home and announced that he was the STAR OF THE DAY!!!!  I'm so proud of Son #1.  You have to understand that Son #1 is a wild man and being Star of the Day is huge for him.

He and his dad celebrated with Frosties.  It was a big day.  The next day, we celebrated a little more with popsicles.  The day after that, we celebrated even more by making gingerbread men.  He was one happy little son.  We were incredibly happy parents.

The celebrations were not entirely without an ulterior motive.  Subliminally and not so subliminally, we were implanting his mind with this idea: 

Listen and obey and we'll celebrate all day.  Monkeying around just doesn't pay.

Muahaha

(ha ha)


Monday, October 1, 2012

Tortilla is Not Your Bottle!

Son #2 knows how to ask for his bottle.  He will usually ask for "Ba", "Ba Ba Ba", "Babtle", or "My Ba" when he is hungry. 

The other day, Son #2 toddled into the kitchen and pulled on my pant leg.  I looked down and asked.  "What is the matter, baby?"

My little baby peered up at me and said.  "Ba, ba, ba."

I replied.  "Oh, you want your bottle.  Let me get you your bottle." 

I went to the refrigerator, grabbed the soy milk, and returned to the counter to fill his bottle.  When I had finished, I picked up my little one and handed him the bottle.  Son #2 took one look at the bottle, pushed it away, and rubbed his face in disgust. 

I asked my son in confusion.  "Don't you want your bottle?"

Son #2 shook his head from side to side and then said.  "My ba."

Again, I handed him his bottle but this time Son #2 began to cry.  He whimpered in frustration.  "Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba!"  I had no idea what to do next.

In desperation, I went to the refrigerator and started handing him whatever I could grab.  Son #2 would push the item away and cry even louder.  Finally, I grabbed a tortilla, rolled it, and placed it in his tiny hand.  Son #2 smiled and cooed.  Then, he exclaimed.  "My ba!"

I gave him a funny look and countered.  "That's a TORTILLA...not your bottle."

Driving the Race Cart

Vroom, vroom, vroom, vroooooooooom!  Son #2 stepped on the race cart's invisible gas pedal and mentally prepared for the race around Albertson. 

"Seat belt?  Check.  Plastic toy wheel?  Check.  Mama pushing the cart?  Check."  Son #2 said aloud in incomprehensible baby talk.

Son #2 glanced from side to side to check out his competitors.  He gunned the pretend engine one more time and then placed his hands on the steering wheel.  Impatiently, he waited for the flag to drop. 

Suddenly, the carts were off speeding along the aisles of the grocery store.  Son #2 skidded around corners and sped along the straight-a-ways.  From time to time, he would draft behind another cart and then sling shot past them when given the chance. 

Every now and then, he would have to make a pit stop to grab a few grocery items.  Son #2 would drum his finger tips on the wheel in frustration and complain in gibberish.  "Mama, hurry up!  I need to get back in the race!  I need to win!"

Finally, Son #2 was coming up on the final lap.  He worked his way up to the front of the pack and was fighting for first place with his nemesis, another baby in a race cart.  Who would get to the check out line first?  Only time could tell.  With only the last turn to go, Son #2 gunned the gas pedal.  He sped past the other cart and into first place.  Success!  He had won the race to the check out line!

Congratulations Son #2!  You've won the Albertson's Cup!

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Poop on the Floor

Son #2 was fresh and shiny from his fantastically warm and bubbly bath.  He was wrapped in a green goldfish towel.  I was pulling out his diaper, a dress shirt, fashionable baby jeans, and a cool puffy vest.  He was going to be stylin'.

While talking with my mom on the phone and laying out the diaper, I heard grunting.  Oh no. 

I said to my mom.  "Hang on a second.  The baby is making a funny noise."  Then, mayhem ensued.

A wad of poop fell from Son #2's upright hiney onto the floor.  Sadly it was not "man poop" and fortunately it was not diarrhea.  Unfortunately, it was a median of the two.  The poo fell to the floor like frozen yogurt. 

I screamed.  "Nooooooooooooooooo! Oh nasty!"

My mom laughed and said.  "I'm going to let you go."

Frantically, I grabbed for the container of wet wipes and then watched in dismay as another clump of soft serve poo slithered down my baby's leg.  Then, Son #2 stepped into the two piles of poo.  The Horror.

Quickly, I grabbed one of Son #2's tiny yet nasty legs and attempted to sterilize it with the wipes.  My poor baby hung onto his furniture for dear life as I leaned him this way and that swabbing away any remnant of feculence that might try to elude me.

Eventually, Son #2 was clean and shiny albeit not as fresh.  The floor was clean as well and the essence of poop had been removed from the building.  I guess I should be thankful this post isn't entitled "Poop in the Tub".

Snowball's Eye

One evening, Son #1 and I went door to door selling goodies for a school fundraiser.  He knocked on one particular door in our neighborhood and began to go through his spiel.  Our neighbor listened with interest and amusement. 

Son #1 pointed to the pictures on the front of the catalog and explained.  "We're selling cookies and pies and more yummy cookies and pretzels and I don't know what this one is."

The neighbor asked to see the catalog and began to search for something to buy.  Just then, her two cats walked up the door.  They were very friendly kitties and Son #1 began to play with them. 

Our neighbor introduced them.  "This kitty is Snowball and the other is Tigger."

Son #1 was enchanted.  He scratched the kitties' ears and patted their backs.  Then he turned to our neighbor and asked.  "What happened to Snowball's eye?"  Our neighbor didn't know but lamented with Son #1 about how sad she was for Snowball.

Later, as we walked to the next house, Son #1 sighed thoughtfully.  "Poor kitty.  I hope Snowball's eye grows back."

Heh heh.  Me too.  Though, that would be pretty weird.

Emptying My Drawers

Son #2 is a very curious baby.  He loves to look in cabinets and drawers.  When he has a chance, he likes to empty them as well.

One beautiful and sunny morning, Son #2 happily played in his room with his toys while my husband worked on his computer and I worked on the laundry.  Periodically, we heard his turtle sing and then his toy piano.  We also heard little grunts, giggles, and sighs.  He even called out.  "Hello!"

While I was folding a few loads of laundry, my husband walked into our room and said with a smirk.  "You should see Son #2's room."

A premonition of disaster came over me.  I crept over to his room and peeked around the door frame.  Piles of clothes were scattered this way and that.  It looked as though an EF5 tornado had blown through his clothes drawer.  In the middle of the mess stood my little baby with a huge grin on his face.

Son #2 grunted and squealed.  He ran to me leaping baby style over various piles.  If babies could express their innermost thoughts, he probably would have exclaimed.  "Wow Mama!  Look at me!  I just pulled out all my clothes and it was FUN!


Thursday, September 27, 2012

Flowers for Abuelita

My mom's birthday was a little while ago.  Son #1 and I decided that we would surprise her with ice cream and flowers.  We went to the store and perused the frozen desert aisle.  Son #1 wanted to get vanilla ice cream but I knew that my mom (a.k.a. Abuelita) really loves caramel and chocolate.  Son #1 and I found a truly decadent ice cream with caramel, chocolate, vanilla, and other deliciousness.  Success!  We were confident that she would love it.

Next, we moved on to find flowers.  I looked at Son #1 and asked.  "What flowers should we get for Abuelita?"

Son #1 pondered the question for a moment and then seriously replied.  "I don't know, Mama."

I bit my lip in mildly deep thought.  "What's your favorite color of flowers?"

Son #1 smiled and pointed to a bouquet of deep maroon/purple daisies.  We both agreed the bouquet was beautiful and got them immediately. 

On our way to Abuelita's house, we excitedly chattered about our little surprise.  When we arrived, Son #1 ran to the door and rang the doorbell several times.  Abuelita answered the door, gave us huge hugs, and then examined her surprise with delight.  The flowers were placed into one of the many pretty vases my dad had bought for her throughout the years.  Then, we all dug into the ice cream except for Son #1.  He's not too into sweets but he did go shopping in Abuelita's freezer for a popsicle.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Dancing after the Concert

Son #2 was fast asleep in my husband's arms when I got up to dance with Son #1.

The concert was done.  The band was relaxing.  The roadies were packing the equipment.  Club music blared from the speakers on the stage below.  People from the audience perused the stands selling t-shirts, conversed with their friends, milled about in front of the coffee shop, and danced on the dance floor.  On the balcony, we began to dance as well.

We were having a fun and rowdy time.  Son #1 was moving to the music when all of a sudden he broke out into "The Robot".  It was a really fantastic version of "The Robot" and the crowd we were in parted to watch him dance it.  We cheered and laughed.

Son #1, you are a wiggly and groovy little dude!

Happy Baby Held All Evening Long

Referring back to the post about tossing toys out of the play pen, Son #2 had successfully been released from his imprisoning enclosure.  Though he thought he had won, he really had not because the concert at the Firefly Stage was about to begin.

My husband, the kids, and I meandered onto the balcony where friends and family gathered to watch the concert.  The evening was breezy and balmy.  Shade trees and the building blocked the setting sun.  The tempting smells of funnel cake and fries drifted up to the balcony.  Lights, strung above the crowd, added to the ambiance.  Son #1 and Son #2 were in awe.

The concert began.  Son #2 and I relaxed in the camping chair.  Son #1 and my husband climbed onto another balcony so Son #1 could let out some energy racing back and forth with a friend.  For about an hour, Son #2 and I listened to the concert.  Periodically, I would get up to take pictures or grab a bit of food for my little baby and me.  Sometimes, Son #2 would stand up on my lap and dance to the music.  Finally, Son #2's eyes began to droop and his head began to bob.  A friend of mine came by and asked to hold the baby.  She had the magic touch because, not less than five minutes later, Son #2 was fast asleep.

For the last hour of the concert, Son #2 slept peacefully, first in my friend's arms and then in mine.  This was not a quiet concert.  We all wondered how in the world he could sleep through all the racket.  He is his father's son.  His daddy can sleep through anything.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

The Reprimand

This weekend, we spent time with family and friends while waiting for a concert at the Firefly Stage.  My husband and his brother were deep in discussion.  My sister in-law and I were laughing over some hysterical topic.  Son #2 was in the process of tossing toys from his play pen.  Son #1 was engrossed in a video game.

My husband's conversation with his brother was an interesting one filled with intense analysis and then jovial ridiculousness.  In the middle of it all, my husband let a four letter word fly.  My husband and I have always been careful about using bad language around the children.  We've always told the kids never to say or repeat naughty words. 

When the bad word slipped from my husband's mouth, Son #1 turned around in dismay.  His face wrinkled into a frown and he reprimanded loudly.  "Daddy!  You said a bad word!  Say sorry to God!"

Reprimands from a five year old can be obnoxious.  He is a self righteous little thing.  However, we were secretly proud he keeps his language clean.

Tossing Toys Out of the Play Pen

Last Saturday afternoon, we spent time with my brother in-law and sister in-law.  Son #1 played video games while Son #2 played in his play pen with his toys.  It was a lovely afternoon filled with talking and laughter.

Son #2 busied himself with his toy phone and toy guitar.  Periodically, he would chew on a squeaky toy and then move on to his hopping bunny.  He had been in his play pen a while when he stood up and began to chatter.  He was trying hard to get our attention.  All Son #2 wanted was to get down and investigate his aunt and uncle's home.  From time to time, we could hear Son #2 say.  "Get down?"

My sister in-law and I tried to get Son #2 interested in his toys again.  We played goofy games with him as he squealed and giggled.  When we felt we had successfully reengaged him with his toys, we began to converse with each other again. 

Alas, Son #2 was not to remain peacefully playing in his play pen.  One by one, he picked up his toys and began to toss them out from his place of captivity.  First, he threw the smaller toys.  Then, he chunked his toy guitar.  The guitar crashed to the wood floor like a tree in a forest cut down by loggers.  Amused, my sister in-law and I placed his toys back into play pen.  We played silly games to entertain him until we thought he had been sufficiently pacified.

Not long after continuing our conversation, Son #2 began to throw his toys with a vengeance.  The toys flew like falling stars onto the wooden floor.  The toy guitar swooped through the air like a meteorite headed for Earth to cause an extinction level event. 

Crash! 

Bang! 

Clang!

Our peaceful afternoon was finished.  Son #2 was freed from his enclosure.  In his little mind, I could hear him declare himself victorious.  Little did he know that his plans to explore the house would be foiled.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Jeff Gord

Son #1 is a huge fan of racing.  Let me rephrase that.  Son #1 is a huge fan of racing anything he could possibly ever race.  He is a mini Ricky Bobby.

The other day, he got to play a racing game at his aunt and uncle's house.  Life was good.  He and his uncle placed the game into the PlayStation.  Then, Son #1 began to search for his favorite race car driver.

Now, Son #1's favorite race car driver has been Jeff Gordon since he was a toddler.  However, Son #1 could never pronounce Jeff Gordon's last name correctly.  We were always helping him pronounce the name correctly.

Son #1 meticulously searched for Jeff Gordon.  When he found Jeff Gordon's car, he cried out with delight.  "Ha ha ha!  I found my guy!  I'm going to be Jeff Gord and I'm going to beat these other guys!  That's right!  Everyone else is going to lose especially Kyle Bush.  I'm going to make him crash!"

I have to agree with Son #1.  Jeff Gord is pretty awesome.




Cleaning My Shoes Like Daddy

This last Saturday in the late afternoon hours, we began to get ready for a free concert down at the Firefly Stage.  My husband started to polish the leather on his shoes in the living room.  Son #1 came bouncing in and asked.  "What are you doing?"

My husband replied.  "Just polishing my shoes, son."

Son #1 exclaimed.  "I want to clean my shoes too!"

While my husband buffed out the scratches on the leather, Son #1 grabbed a brush and began to swipe at his tennis shoes.  Every once in a while, Son #1 would look at what my husband was doing and try to imitate it. 

My husband was fairly oblivious to the fact the Son #1 was doing everything that he doing.  The two of them were so adorable that I had to take a picture.  I showed the picture to my husband and son.  Their smiles lit up their faces.

Son #1 is definitely Daddy's little boy.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Chasing the Hopping Bunny

Son #2 has a little brown and velvety toy Easter bunny that hops and sings when you press its paw.  Son #2 is fascinated by it. 

Yesterday morning, I pressed the bunny's paw and watched it hop around our living room.  Son #2 stood in awe as the bunny jumped and wiggled to it's little song.  When the song stopped, Son #2 toddled to the bunny and picked it up. 

I asked.  "Do you want to see it hop again?"  Son handed the bunny to me and smiled.  I pressed the paw once again but this time Son #2 began to chase the little toy bunny.

Around the room, the bunny hopped.  Close behind, my baby followed.  Son #2 laughed and gooed.  This time when the bunny stopped, Son #2 sat down on the floor and cried.  His little face scrunched up while tears filled his eyes.  Amused, I picked him up and said.  "What in the world little boy!  There's no need to cry.  Do you want to see the bunny hop again?"

Son #2 looked into my eyes and said.  "My Ba!"  (Translation:  My Bottle!)

I guess he's done chasing the hopping bunny.  He wants his bottle instead.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Baby Basketball

When I was pregnant with Son #2, Son #1 got to go to many of my doctor visits.  My doctor also delivered Son #1 and has a special fondness for the little guy.  Each time we went to a visit, the doctor would ask Son #1 to hold the heart beat monitor onto my stomach so they could listen to the little baby. 

Son #1 was completely fascinated.  At home, he would pretend that his football was a baby and stick the football under his shirt.  After Son #2 was born, Son #1 would pretend the football was an infant as well and rock it to sleep with a pretend bottle.  Son #1 is just too precious.

Tonight, Son #1 came out with a basketball underneath his shirt and said.  "Ugh.  Baby Basketball is so heavy.  I think I need to have surgery to get it out."

I laughed and replied.  "Ok.  Do you want to schedule an appointment?"

"Sure.  I'll just wait in the waiting room while you get ready for the surgery."  Son #1 groaned.

Son #2 and I went to his room to "prepare for surgery".  I called Son #1 into his room to lay down on his bed.  It was bedtime so Son #1's surgery worked well with my plans.  (cue evil laugh) 

Son #2 began to make a mess with the toys so I sent him out to "sterilize" some "instruments".  When Son #2 patted on the door to come back in, Son #1 pointed out.  "I think the sterilizer baby is back."  I let the sterilizer baby in and we proceeded to deliver Baby Basketball. 

After the delivery, Son #1 said in a reprimanding whisper.  "Shh!  Baby Basketball needs to sleep!"

Well then!  Goodnight, silly boy!

There's no basketball in my tummy!

The Cat's Tail

Son #2 loves our cat, Sketchy, and she feels the same about him.  However, Sketchy is a bit reluctant to be out in the open when he is awake.  Usually, you can find her hiding in a corner sleeping the day away.  Now, she does sound like an incredibly lazy cat but you have to know that she is twelve years old.  She is getting close to kitty retirement and AARP age.

Today, Sketchy felt adventurous and came out of hiding to say hello to Son #2 and her best friend, the dog.  Son #2 had been patting the dog's nose when Sketchy slinked over and nuzzled the dog's leg.  The dog and Sketchy put their noses together while Son #2 cooed and babbled. 

Sketchy turned her attention to Son #2.  She purred and sniffed at him.  Delighted, Son #2 reached out to pat her head.  Sketchy was too quick for him and trotted a little ways away.  Son #2 turned after her and saw her tail move.  She eyed him from a sideways glance and then trotted a couple more steps.  Son #2 toddled after her and tried to step on her tail. 

You could almost read Sketchy's thoughts.  "Over here little baby.  Whoa, whoa, whoa. Watch out for the tail."  She raised her nose toward Son #2's outstretched hand and let him pat her for a second. 

Sketchy trotted forward a few more steps.  Her enchanting tail switched back and forth.  Son #2 tried to step on it again.  Sketchy's eyes seemed to say.  "Little baby, you're pushing your luck."  Son #2 payed no attention to her angry eyes and tried to grab the wiggly tail.  With a hop and a bounce, Sketchy skittered behind the couch.  Son #2 mewed sadly after her.

Sorry little son.  Kitties just don't like babies or anyone grabbing their tails.

Sketchy with her sister Stumpy (may Stumpy rest in peace)

Our dog "New Socks"...

Not to be confused with my best doggy friend "Old Socks"
(may he also rest in peace)

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

I've Finally Joined the Dark Side

For all of you who have been telling me get on facebook, I have finally cracked and conceded.  I have joined facebook grudgingly. 

Here is my page:  http://www.facebook.com/outnumberedhelpme

I've joined as a page not a personal site but you can LIKE me.  Please tell all your friends and family.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Pot Head??

Today, Son #1 and Son #2 were playing in the kitchen cabinets.  They managed to pull out various pieces of Tupperware and pans.

For a while, they pretended to cook Easter eggs in one of the pots.  From the other room, we heard Son #1 shaking the pot over his imaginary stove.  Son #2 tried to swipe an egg from the pot and Son #1 reprimanded him loudly.  "No baby!  You can't touch."  Son #2 fussed and then found new toys to push on the kitchen floor. 

Sometime later, my husband and I walked into the kitchen and began to prepare supper.  Son #1 emptied the eggs out of the pot and placed it on his head.  Then he called out.  "Mama.  Daddy.  Look!  I'm a pot head."  A pot head?!  My husband and I looked at each other stunned.  Quickly, we wiped the shocked looks off our faces and then replied.  "Oh, you're so funny."  Then, my husband muttered under his breath.  "You can be this kind of pot head but you better not be the other kind of pothead."

Heh.  I agree.


Son #1 and #2 intent on emptying out our kitchen cabinets.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Phrase of the Day: Bean Poo

Son #2 is talking in phrases and repeats new words each day.

Just before lunch, my husband and I noticed Son #2 had a really stinky diaper.  We said to Son #2.  "Change you.  Time to change you."

Son #2 agreed and toddled to his room after us to be changed.  He protested a bit while he lay there but then calmed down while we worked as a team doing diaper duty.

I commented to my husband.  "Hmm...looks like bean poo."

My husband grimaced and said.  "Man, that's gross."

From below, we heard a tiny voice say.  "Bean poo."

Fantastic.  Son #2's new phrase for the day is "bean poo". 

Can anyone direct us to the place where they hand out Parents of the Year Awards?

Sunday, September 16, 2012

When I'm a Grandpa

Son #1 has boundless amounts of energy.  (Quite frankly, I think he may be the reincarnation of my old border collie whose amount of energy bordered on the ridiculous.)

This afternoon, my husband and Son #1 were having a lively discussion about bedtime.  My husband explained to my eldest son that he needed to go to bed early in order to feel rested for school tomorrow.  My eldest son heartily disagreed and fussed over having to go to bed so early.  My husband patiently explained that going to bed early was good for little boys and would help my son grow to be big and strong.  Son #1 would not have any bit of it.  He spouted off.  "When I'm a GRANDPA, I'm going to go to bed LATE!"

My husband and I looked at each other and then cracked up laughing.  Then my husband replied.  "Son, when you're a grandpa we'll be long gone and by that time you'll have earned the right to do WHATEVER you want."

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Shameless Advertisement for Great Friends

One day soon I hope to blog about my sweet baby boys while doing fun stuff at this place:
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"What are you doing?"

Son #2 is talking in phrases now.  He speaks in baby talk but if you listen closely you can make out what he is saying.

One day, my husband was talking to his parents on the phone.  Son #2 and I walked into the room and joined the conversation.  My husband told his parents.  "Mom. Dad.  Son #2 is talking a lot now.  Do you guys want to talk to him?"

His parents were delighted and excited to talk to their youngest grandson.  They began to chat with him at once.  Son #2's eyes lit up and he tried to grab the phone.

He quietly listened to his Grandma and Grandpa, periodically interjecting with goos and one word phrases.  Then he spoke into the phone as seriously as he could.  "What are you doing?"

My husband's parents were stunned at Son #2's big sentence.  However, they were only stunned for a moment.  After the moment had passed, they quickly answered his question.  Son #2 grinned and tried to grab the phone once again.

Son #2 has discovered the art, the joy, and the power of conversation.  Though he is a quiet baby, he uses his words to his advantage.

Attack of the Baby in Puppy Shoes

Tonight while I waited for Son #1 to clean his room, I wandered around the house randomly picking up toys and chatting with Son #2.  He wore a sweet, long-sleeved onesie and furry, little puppy shoes.  At first he chattered along in baby talk and then he got an idea.  All at once he began to chase me around the house.  When he caught me he would grab a hold of my jeans, squeal with laughter, and bury his face into my legs.

We raced around the house for a while and then I got a silly idea.  The next time he grabbed my jeans, I made goofy fart noises with my mouth.  From behind me, I heard shrieks of laughter.  Son #2 fell to the ground and chortled with delight.  When he got up, we raced again only this time fart noises were added to our sequence of silliness.

Round and round we raced and ran.  I would glance behind me periodically.  From these sideways glances I could see Son #2 running as fast as his puppy shoes would carry him.  Time and time again he would catch me and laugh.  Sweat began to drip off his curls and I could hear him breathing heavily.  Finally, our silly game finished. 

Son #1 was done cleaning his room.  Son #2 was utterly exhausted.  I was on a mission to put our two sweet boys to bed.  My husband removed the puppy shoes from Son #2's feet and placed them by his other shoes.  Those little puppy shoes served Son #2 well tonight. 

"Until next time little puppy shoes"  I thought.  "and sleep tight Son #2."

Saturday, September 8, 2012

A Letter to the Principal

Son #1's principal has a mail box near her office so the children can write to her.  Son #1 was fascinated with the mail box and asked about it.  I explained that he could write a letter to the principal and place it in the mail box.  He decided right then and there that he would write her a letter.

At home, Son #1 dug out paper, crayons, glue and scissors.  He chatted while he created his letter and stamp.  Then he grew silent as he concentrated on his writing and coloring.  I cooked supper and played with Son #2.  After a while, I heard Son #1's little voice.  "Mama, can you help me with the stamp?"

I replied.  "Hang on a second."  Then, I walked into the kitchen and asked.  "What do you need?"

He held a little stamp up in the air and said.  "I don't know how to stick it onto the letter."

"Oh, let me get the glue.  I'll help you."  I assured him.  I opened the glue and then placed a dot on a corner of his letter.  He carefully lay the stamp on top of the glue.  Then, we left the letter and stamp on the table to dry.

The next day, he proudly carried his letter to the mail box and placed it inside.  With a smile on his face, he went to class. 

After school was done, he saw his principal and said in a small but sure voice.  "Principal.  Principal.  There's a letter in your mail box."

She smiled and replied.  "Oh really!  I'm so excited!  This is my first letter this year."

Son #1 watched as she retrieved the letter from the box and then she said.  "I can't wait to read your letter."  Son #1 was very excited and talked of nothing else all the way home.  

The following day, Son #1 received a letter from the principal thanking him for her very first letter and complementing him on his stamp.  I read the letter to him.  His face beamed with pride and he hugged the letter to his chest.  Then he said.  "I'm going to keep my letter forever!"

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Ready for Kindergarten?

Son #1 is going to kindergarten this year.  He has mixed feelings because on one hand he is excited to make friends but on the other hand he'll miss Caillou.

A few nights ago, we took him to meet his teacher.  Son #1 proudly packed his backpack with his school supplies.  He walked hand in hand with his dad to the front office.  At the office, they were directed to wall where a long list of teachers and their students was posted.  My husband and eldest son began to search for his class. 

A few seconds into their search, the assistant principal approached and asked.  "Are you ready for kindergarten?"

Son #1 paused his search and replied.  "No."

The assistant principal was amused and asked.  "Why not?"

Son #1 responded.  "Because I haven't found my teacher yet!"

Talking to the Kitty

We have a grey tabby cat that is twelve years old.  She is very wary of babies but has grown to love our sons. 

For the first nine months of Son #2's life, she perched on the top cushion of our couch and eyed him through half closed eyes.  Son #2 barely noticed.  He happily crawled from place to place in search of new and interesting toys.  Then, he began walking.

Watching our little baby walk may have perked our cat's interest.  Slowly, she inched down the couch to the floor.  Son #2 caught sight of her and mewed in his little language.  The cat meowed back and sidled up beside him.  Son #2 reached out with his chubby hand to pat her back and mewed again.  She arched her back, purred a little, and then tiptoed forward.  Son #2 toddled quickly towards her with arms outstretched.  Our nervous cat leaped straight into the air and then scurried away to hide.

The conversation between baby and cat was over.  Son #2 mewed sadly and then toddled toward the kitchen in search of something new.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

The Bread

Yesterday, we ate a wonderful lunch at my mom's house.  I served my young boys and then sat them at the dining room table to eat. 

Son #2 savored each morsel of pasta and corn that he was able to nibble from his spoon.  He smiled and cooed happily.  I even gave him a bite of french bread.  Then for no apparent reason, he began to fuss.

I offered him more pasta but he rubbed his face in disdain.  I offered him more corn but he turned away and kicked his legs.  Was he throwing a little fit?  Possibly. 

I decided to test my suspicion by offering a bite of bread.  He immediately stopped fussing and cooed.

He's learning to manipulate early. 

We're screwed.

Where Babies Grow

While I was pregnant with Son #2, Son #1 was fascinated with my growing belly.  He would pat my stomach and ask me all kinds of questions about the baby.  One day, he announced.  "I know how babies get into mamas' stomachs."

My husband and I exchanged terrified glances but replied calmly.  "Go on."

Son #1 began.  "First, you swallow the baby."

We smirked but nodded for him to continue.

"Then, the baby goes down your esophagus to your stomach."  He said knowingly.  "Then the baby grows and grows."

"How does the baby get out?"  We asked hesitantly.

"You POOP it out your butt."  Son #1 said as he pointed to his little rear.

I think we'll let him continue to think that for a while longer.

I Know Everything

A few days ago, I sat down to play Legos with my boys.  Son #1 built towers, houses, skyscrapers, castles only to destroy them like King Kong and then build again.  Gently, I helped Son #2 stack Lego pieces together and eventually we made a car and an airplane.

While we created and destroyed our Lego towns, I looked down and noticed that the Legos we had were for children ages 1-5 years.  I thought aloud.  "Hmm...this is for 1-5 year old kids."  In my head, I realized that I needed to get my older son new Legos soon and pass these Legos down to my younger son.

My older son replied.  "Yes...and I'm going to be six soon."

I smiled and said.  "You're really good at making stuff out of these Legos."

Son #1 confidently responded.  "That's because I KNOW EVERYTHING!"

I raised my eyebrow and repeated his statement.  "You know everything?"

My oldest son looked me straight in the eye and stated.  "Yes."

Well alright then.  I guess you do.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Shhh...Don't Tell

Son #1 will wake up in the middle of the night and meander out to the couch in the living room to sleep.  It is a funny little habit.

One morning, Son #1 came into the bathroom where I was putting on makeup and said.  "Mama, I slept on the couch last night."

I feigned surprise and replied.  "Oh really."  I had woken up before him and discovered him sleeping peacefully on the couch with my green blanket.

Son #1 continued.  "Yeah.  I had a bad dream so I came out to the couch so I could go to sleep again."

I sympathetically stated.  "Oh no!  I'm sorry you had a bad dream.  What did you dream about?"

Son #1 informed me that he had dreamt about Bowser from Mario Brothers and that it had been very scary.  Then he whispered conspiratorially.  "Don't tell Dad I slept on the couch."

I giggled and replied.  "I won't."

Little did Son #1 realize, his dad had been up most of the night working on the computer and had most likely discovered him on the couch long before I had.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Bath Discoveries

Son #2 was taking a much needed bath after devouring his spaghetti lunch with a gusto.  He explored the yellow duckies, soap bars, and wash cloths happily in an inch of warm bubbly water.  Periodically, he would splash with his hands and goo.  I was enchanted by this little scene and kicked back on the toilet lid to watch my baby play.

Play is exactly what he did.  He crawled fiercely from one side of the tub to the other.  Then he stood to peek over the edge.  When he was satisfied that nothing interesting lay outside of the tub, he got down on his hands and knees to explore a cup.  He almost drank out of it but fortunately I stopped him in time.  (Eww!)

Son #2 sat bewildered for a second after the cup disappearred.  Then, he spied the faucet.  He stood and scooted toward the silvery fixture.  He had never seen anything quite so intriguing.  This silvery thing had a baby inside of it!  Son #2 patted the faucet and baby face.  He gooed and babbled but the baby face only imitated his expressions.  He was confused but decided to continue on with the conversation.  Mid conversation with the baby face on the faucet, Son #2 peed into the tub while standing.  He looked down surprised and exclaimed.  "Agoo!"

Bath discoveries can be so entertaining.

Son #2's First Steps (in a Yoda Voice)

"Careful I must be when walking first steps.  Impatient parents are, but grave danger will there be if I hurry."

(The baby has paused while holding onto his Dada's hands.  He gazes longingly towards Mama but does not release the hands of his Dada just yet.)

"Try.  Try.  Try not."

(The baby's feet shuffle with eagerness but his face reveals his hesitation.)

"Once I start down the path of walking, forever it will dominate my destiny, consume me it will."

(The baby slowly releases his Dada's right hand.  His Dada helps him take a few more uncertain steps with only the left hand as support.)

"Little I am, but size not matters.  May my Dada be with me."

(The little one bravely releases his Dada's left hand and stands independently.  His legs in motion, he toddles forward to his Mama.  Quickly, he grasps her hands.)

"Strong I am.  Brave I am.  Always in motion in the future."

Thursday, July 12, 2012

The Coveted Guitar

Son #2 is now pulling himself up onto furniture and walls and scooting across each room.  He feels so independent and big.  As he travels from room to room utilizing his scooting and crawling skills, he thinks to himself.  "Now, I can go everywhere!!!!"  Periodically, we can hear him laugh, squeal, and goo.

Tonight, I can see his thoughts as they crossed his precious, little face. 

Son #2 spies his dad's open door to the office and the guitar gleaming in the corner.  "Aha!  If only I can crawl quickly.  Then I will play the coveted guitar before Dada catches me!"

Fiercely, he crawls down the hallway and into the office.  He sneaks to the guitar while his Dad works on the computer unaware that his son is standing and patting the strings.  Then his dad turns around and says.  "Son...What are you doing???"

Son #2 grins a sweet grin and thinks.  "I was playing the guitar until you caught me!!!!"

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

An Evening at the Rangers Game

My mom scored awesome seats for a Rangers game one fine evening and invited her children and their families to go.  We were psyched!

We settled into our seats and became engrossed in the game as the first inning began.  The Tigers were up first.  The Ranger's pitcher began to deliver his pitches with surity or so we thought.  Unfortunately, something was terribly wrong with his pitches that night as the Tiger lineup scored point after frustrating point in the first inning. 

Six points later, we all sat glumly in our seats.  Son #1 peered at the scoreboard, turned to my husband, and asked.  "Why do the Rangers keep helping them score?!?"

My husband and I rolled with laughter. 

Why indeed!  We couldn't figure it out either.

A Morning at the Lake

Early one morning, the boys woke us up, we threw on bathing suits, loaded the car with gear, and went down to the lake.  Did we even eat breakfast?  The only one lucky enough to have extra food available was Son #2.  Son #1 had an apple, I had a pear, and my husband drank some coffee.  We did bring water and Dr. Pepper though.

The drive down to the lake was fantastic.  My husband and I talked while the boys looked around excitedly and played with the dog.  Son #1 would interject comments into our conversation and Son #2 would babble as if he too had something to say.

When we arrived at the lake, we chose a covered picnic table close to the shore.  Son #1 whooped and hollered as he streaked like lightening out of our car.  I carried Son #2 and helped my husband unload the car and the dog.  We secured our two wiggly boys into their life jackets and then jumped into the lake.  Man, we had fun!

While in the water, Son #1 practiced his swimming strokes and kicks.  Periodically, he would try to go underwater and when we weren't paying attention he would splash at us.  My husband and I would get him back, though.

We held Son #2 in the water and he got to experience playing in the lake for the first time in his life.  He really enjoyed it.  Son #2 splashed and kicked exploring the shiny and cool water.  My husband placed our baby on his stomach and helped him paddle around.

Even the dog swam around the in the shallow water after we dragged him in several times.  We had to reassure our pitiful pup that it was ok and that all he had to do was kick all four legs to keep his snout above water.  He didn't believe us but tried it anyway.  Son #1 got involved in the doggy swimming lessons even though we warned him not to get to close.  Doggy claws swimming in water can really hurt when they get to close to your legs.

A few hours into our day at the lake, Son #2 had had enough and settled down to eat.  Son #1, however continued to splash and swim.  He and his dad raced several times.  Then he and I shot cool pictures of dragonflies on reeds.  Once Son #2 finished his bottle, my husband and I took turns loading up the car.  We commented on how peaceful our morning at the lake had been.  Then, we called out to Son #1 still playing in the lake.  "Baby, its time to go!"

From the shore's edge, a little voice shouted.  "I DON'T WANT TO GO!"

Calmly, we countered.  "We're going to have lunch with Abuelita (Grandma) and your Tios and Tia (Uncles and Aunt)."  We confidently thought he would be really excited upon hearing about our lunch plans.

Son #1 surprised us.  "I DON'T WANT TO EAT WITH ABUELITA OR MY TIOS AND TIA!

Huh!  That was strange.  Usually, when we talk about eating with Abuelita he is the first one out the door to the car.  Alright, time for Plan B.  My husband walked down to the lake and quietly but sternly spoke to Son #1.  I couldn't hear the conversation but I could tell by body language that Son #1 was not being given a choice about getting his little rear out of the water and into the car.

Fast forward to the restaurant with Abuelita, the Tios and the Tia.

We had just finished a nice meal and were enjoying the conversation.  Son #1 turned to Abuelita and asked.  "Can I go to your house?"

Five year olds are odd and fickle little creatures.

Monday, June 25, 2012

The Gyrocopter

One lazy afternoon, I watched a movie while folding laundry.  Son #2 was sleeping peacefully in his crib while Son #1 played contently in his room.  Periodically, Son #1 would come into the room where I was folding clothes and try to sneak a peek at the movie.  I was too quick for him and would pause the movie as soon as I heard him moving towards me. 

I was busily folding the last bit of clothing when I heard him tiptoing in the hallway.  Quickly I paused the movie and the screen froze on a war scene.  Son #1 gazed at the frozen frame in front of him and stated.  "Hmm.  That looks like a gyrocopter."

"A gyrowha????"  I asked.

"A gyrocopter."  My little boy replied.

"What is a gyrocopter?"  I questioned.

Son #1 pointed to what I thought was a helicopter on the screen and replied.  "This."

"I've got to look this up.  I'll bet you're right.  Where did you learn about gyrocopters?"  I commented incredulously.

"I don't know."  My son responded.

I ran over to my computer and did a search on gyrocopters.  As soon as I clicked on the search button, articles and pictures of gyrocopters appeared.  Apparently, a gyrocopter is very real and a type of aircraft that looks like a helicopter but is more similar to airplanes.  It's pretty scary when a five year old can teach you new vocabulary.

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Corn Heaven

Last night, we grilled corn on the cob.  The weather was sunny with a cool yet balmy breeze typical of a late evening in our region of the country.  The sun was setting as we ate the succulent roasted corn and talked about our war on the weeds in the backyard.

Son #1's face registered delight every time he would bite into his corn.  His eyelids would close partially and a satisfied smile would appear.  Corn on the cob is one of his favorite vegetables.  When we grill it, he just can't seem to get enough. 

As he nibbled that last kernels off of the cob, he looked around to see if there were any extras.  There on the grill sat my husband's corn.  It had yet to be eaten and the temptation was too great for Son #1.  He shyly asked.  "Can I have another corn?"

I responded.  "Oh no!  There's no more.  The last one is for your dad."

Knowing that corn happens to be Son #1's little joys in life, my husband quickly joined the conversation.  "It's OK.  He can have it.  I don't mind." 

My husband is so sweet to his little boys.

Son #1 joyfully replied.  "Hurray!" 

He ran to his seat to get his plate and then waited for me to unwrap his corn.  Slowly, he took a bite and savored the rich flavor.  His eyes closed as he stated to those around him.  "I'm in CORN HEAVEN!"

Friday, June 8, 2012

Walking With A Cane

My husband had just returned from his trip up to Washington.  He returned with many exciting things but one was particularly exciting to Son #2.  My husband brought home his grandfather's cane.

My husband sat on the couch and drug the cane across the floor.  Son #2, who had been crawling around the living, was immediately awestruck by this new object.  He had never seen anything like this before.  It was so interesting.  There it was...magically moving across the carpet.  Should he go after it?  Could he catch it?  There were so many things to contemplate.

Son #2 quickly made his way to the moving cane.  My husband's eyes twinkled as he stopped the cane so Son #2 could grab it.  Then, my husband slowly lifted the cane as Son #2 held on.

Son #2 looked around a little confused.  The cane was moving upward.  This was new.  Should he stand up?  Could he hold on?  What if he were to bite this new thing?  Maybe a little drool would slow it down.

My husband steadied Son #2 as he stood while the cane rose.  Son #2 let out a little shriek of joy and then traveled the length of the cane.  Our little baby reached toward the coffee table but then pulled back when he began to wobble.  Son #2 experimented with the cane while standing and sitting.  Then my husband tried to have him walk with the cane as if walking on a high wire.  Son #2 held the cane for a bit but then sat down.  He crawled away to investigate other things.

My husband and I giggled at the fun we had just had with our little baby.  Who knew that a cane could be so entertaining?

Picture Day

Son #2 was all dressed up and ready to take his 9 month old pictures at the portrait studio.  He cooed and smiled completely aware that he could charm anyone with his long eyelashes and sparkling blue eyes.  I smiled to myself and thought about how cute he would look in his upcoming pictures.

I loaded my boys into the car and drove over to the studio.  We rushed inside, excited to get started.  We have been to this studio many times and the photographer is wonderful.  She always takes great pictures of the boys and then I'm stuck trying to narrow down my choices.  The photographer and I discussed the background and then she began to set up for the shoot.  Son #2 sucked on his clothes while Son #1 played with the toys in their waiting area.  All seemed right in the world.

Son #2 is a big ham when it comes to taking pictures and I cheerfully reminisced about his 6 month old picture shoot.  Son #2 smiled a full toothy grin and sang.  THEN, I placed him on the floor to begin the session.  Son #2 looked at his surroundings, realized he was not in my arms anymore, and then let out a pitiful wail.  The photographer, Son #1, and I looked at each other shocked.  Was this not the same little ham that loved to have his picture taken?!

The photographer, Son #1, and I tried to distract him with toys, silly faces, and silly noises.  Nothing seemed to work.  Finally, I dug through my purse, pulled out my phone, and played a song called "Under the Sea".  Son #2's eyes lighted up and he immediately said.  "Goo!" 

The photographer saw her chance and began snapping pictures but Son #2's joy was short lived.  He tossed the phone aside and wailed.  The photographer turned to me and said.  "Mama, I don't think this is going to happen today.  Do you want to try again another day?"

I pondered coming back but then asked.  "Were you able to get any good pictures?"

She loaded the pictures onto the screen and we immediately found two gorgeous pictures of Son #2.  I don't know how she does it.  I think she may be a magician.  Throughout the session, Son #2 mostly screamed but she managed to capture two serene portraits that made him look like an angel.

Friday, June 1, 2012

Stuck

My husband and I were relaxing in the living room with Son #2 when we heard Son #1 shout for help.  His worried voice seemed to emanate from the bathroom so my husband went to check it out.  I waited with Son #2 in the living room and heard this exchange.

Son #1:  "Ugh!  The poop won't come out of my butt!  It hurts!"

My Husband:  "Just relax.  Don't push too hard or else you'll hurt yourself."

Son #1:  "Ok Dad."

My Husband:  "Do you know why you are having a hard time pooping?  It's because all you have been eating is cheese and you have not been eating your vegetables."

Son #1:  "Sorry Dad.  Next time I'll eat my vegetables."

I chuckled to myself as my husband injected a tiny dose of guilt for avoiding vegetables into their conversation.

A minute or two passed in silence and then I heard my eldest son exclaim.  "It came out!  It was like my butt had teeth and chomped the poop out!"

My husband and I laughed uncontrollably.  Stuck poop beware.  Son #1's hiney has teeth that can chomp you out!

Monday, May 28, 2012

On the Subject of Cowboys...

When Son #1 was three, he attended day care.  One day, the facility rented a horse for professional pictures.  All parents were told to dress their child in cowboy clothing for picture day.  Sadly, Son #1 had clothing technical difficulties.  Son #1 does not own any western wear and never has but he DOES own Dallas Cowboy apparel.  So on that fine morning, Son #1 picked out his Tony Romo jersey and proudly marched into his classroom.

During the lesson, the teacher taught the children about cowboys, horses, and their clothing.  She pointed out children that were dressed in their best western apparel and labeled them as cowboys.  Son #1 pointed to his Dallas Cowboy jersey and proclaimed.  "I'm a Cowboy too!" 

Just as the teacher was going to correct him, she looked at his shirt and smiled.  "You ARE a Cowboy!"  She exclaimed.

That's right baby!  Son #1 is the best kind of Cowboy!

When I Grow Up...

Son #1 was watching a cute cartoon about cowboys.  He turned to my husband and said.  "When I grow up, I want to be a cowboy."

To this, my husband replied.  "You were born in Texas so you're already a cowboy.  All you need is a horse."

Son #1 thought this over carefully and then responded.  "When I grow up, I want to be a race car driver."

My husband queried.  "I thought you wanted to be a cowboy."

Son #1 quickly replied.  "I do!  And then when I get done with the horse thing, I want to race cars."

You can't go wrong when you know what you want to do.  Son #1, you be that cowboy/race car driver!