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. 




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:

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:

"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!"