The "River"

Several days ago, Son #1 and Son #2 asked to play on the Slip & Slide.  My husband and I fished the slide and accessories out of the garage.  Then, we proceeded to set the whole thing up.  Son #1 and Son #2 ran to their rooms to change into their swim trunks.  Before going outside, I slathered them in sun screen.  Finally, we turned on the water.

At first, a small fountain trickled from the slide.  I adjusted the stream from the faucet and larger jets of water shot up.  The boys were amazed.  Son #1 grabbed his water board, backed up a few feet, and took a flying leap into the stream.  He slid halfway down the slide and skidded to a stop.  Obviously, the slide wasn't wet enough.  I turned the water up another notch as my husband encouraged our oldest son to try it again.  Son #1 tucked his board under his arm and returned to the starting point.  Then, he sprinted to the slide, leaped into the air, and hurtled across the water.  This time the slide was wet enough as Son #1 came crashing through the last puddle.

Son #2 jabbered excitedly as his older brother tested out the slide.  As soon as everything was working correctly, we ushered our youngest son to his board.  He picked it up and ran to the starting point.  He tentatively jogged to the edge of the stream, placed his board on the ground, and then pushed it down the stretch to the final puddle.  We all cheered as he reached the end.  Son #2 straightened up and shouted with his fists in the air.  "Yeah!"

For the next couple hours, the boys took turns skidding down the slide.  Water flew everywhere as they splashed and shrieked.  Even our border collie joined in the fun, racing back and forth across the yard.  Eventually as the sun moved toward the horizon, the boys' quick sprints turned into slow jogs.  Exhaustion permeated their facial expressions as they began to rub their sleepy eyes.  I brought out the towels and wrapped them up before bringing them into the house.  Son #1 and Son #2 were so tired they lay on the couch the rest of the evening.

The other day, Son #2 tapped me on the shoulder.  "Mommy?  I wanna play with da river."

"The river?"  I asked wrinkling my brow.

"Yeah.  Da river with da slide."  Son #2 explained.

"Oh.  You mean the Slip & Slide."  I said.  "Well, it's raining today but we'll get it out soon."  I assured my youngest son.  "Don't worry."

"O.K. Mommy.  We'll play with da river soon."  Son #2 said and hurried off to his room to play.

I giggled to myself.  We definitely have to play with the "river" again and soon.

Bubbles and Pops

Son #2 has his own language to describe the things.  For the past month, I've been writing down the unique phrases that he uses.  Whenever I hear something new, I have to pause and ask for more information.  Sometimes, Son #2 will keep repeating the phrase.  Sometimes, he will just lead me to the item he is requesting.  Either way, he eventually gets his point across.

In the bathroom, Son #2 is a very curious little boy.  Sometimes, he likes to see how things work.  He is particularly curious about the toilet.  One day, he asked for Pops.  I wrinkled my brows and asked.  "What?"

My little son tried again.  "Can I see Pops?"

"Pops!"  I exclaimed in a silly voice though I had no idea what he meant.

"No, no, no.  That's not right!"  Son #2 corrected.  "I want Pops."  He said as he pointed to the top of the toilet.

"What is Pops?"  I called out to my husband.

"Pops means he wants to see the inside of the basin behind the toilet.  Lift the lid for him and then flush the toilet."  My husband instructed.

"Huh?"  I responded in confusion.

"Just trust me."  My husband said.

"O.K."  I replied with a weird look on my face.  So, I lifted the lid on the basin behind the toilet.  Son #2 peered inside.

Then, my tiny son shouted.  "I wanna Jump!"  Immediately after making his announcement, Son #2 hopped toward the handle of the toilet and flushed it as he jumped.  My little boy stood on his tiptoes and watched as the basin emptied and then filled back up with water.  "Again!"  He cried.  I shrugged my shoulders and did it a couple more times.

There are also a few interesting words that Son #2 uses during meals.  One day, Son #2 gazed at me with his big eyes and said.  "I want Bani."

"What do you want?"  I asked as I knelt down to his level.

"Bani."  He replied impatiently as he ran to the refrigerator door.  From there he began to pull on the handle and throw a small fit.

"Hang on a second.  You don't need to throw a fit.  Let me open the door and see what's inside."  I said as I pried his fingers off the refrigerator handle.  I opened the door and Son #2 tried to scramble up the shelves like a spider monkey.  "Show me what you want."  I said in a no nonsense voice.

Son #2 pointed and jumped at the vanilla pudding.  "Bani!  Bani!"  He yelled.

"Oh, you want vanilla pudding."  I said with a smile as I brought down an individual cup.

Son #2 screamed with excitement.  "That's right!"

After those two incidents, I began to work on my toddler dictionary.  Please see below.  The dictionary is not and may never be complete.  Words are found in alphabetical order.

Apple Sing - noun the "Phonics Song" on the smart phone  example:  I want Apple Sing.


Bani - noun vanilla pudding  example:  I want Bani.

Boing - verb to jump while pushing the handle to the toilet synonym:  Jump  example:  Boing!

Bubbles - ???

Da Float - noun neck  example:  Dis is Da Float.  (said while pointing at neck)

Feed - verb eat  example:  I want to feed.  implied meaning:  Can you feed me?  I need help.

Jump - verb to jump while pushing the handle to the toilet synonym:  Boing  example:  Jump!


Pops - noun the inside of the basin behind the toilet  verb Lift the lid and flush the toilet  example:  I want Pops.

Pwivacy - noun the rare and precious time spent alone  example:  I want pwivacy.

Run - verb the action of running to the person holding your clothes in order to get dressed.  example:  I wanna run.


Snugger - noun stomach  example:  My snugger hurts.

The Ribbit Dance (The River Dance)

One afternoon while hanging out with family at my mom's house, the conversation meandered to the subject of the River Dance.  We cracked jokes, performed our own clumsy interpretations, and generally made ourselves look silly.  Son #2 listened intently as we continued to talk about the River Dance.  All of a sudden, my little son jumped into the conversation.  "I do da Ribbit Dance!"  He cried.  "Ribbit!  Ribbit!  Ribbit!"  Son #2 hopped across the tile floor like a frog chasing a fly.

My sister giggled and asked.  "Did you say the Ribbit Dance?"

"Yeah!"  Son #2 croaked.  Then, he continued to hop around the living room.  "Ribbit!  Ribbit!  Ribbit!"

"Psst!  Check this out."  My sister whispered and pointed discretely to my froggy, young child.

I poked my head around the corner and laughed.  "What are you doing?"  I asked my little son.

"Da Ribbit Dance!"  Son #2 yelled with enthusiasm.  He continued to bounce from room to room all the while croaking as loud as he could.  "Ribbit!  Ribbit!  Ribbit!"

Silly boy!

Son #2's dance was so infectious that we could not help but join in the fun.  Pretty soon, we were either croaking or hopping along with my youngest boy.  Son #2 croaked even louder between bouts of laughter.  Next, Son #1 encouraged his younger brother to fly through the house while shrieking like a manic frog.  Soon, two frog children were bounding across my mom's house as if leaping from lily pad to lily pad.

My children are ridiculous!

Eventually, the leaping and bounding began to get out of control.  Slowly, we helped the children calm down.  Their flying leaps turned into gentle hops.  Their raucous croaking turned into quiet chirps.  The froggy children looked tired so we began to get their shoes on their feet.  However before we left my mom's house, I turned to my youngest son and said.  "Show me the Ribbit Dance again."

Son #2 grinned and replied.  "O.K."  Then, he hopped with all his might out the front door to our car.  "Ribbit!  Ribbit!  Ribbit!" 

The Breakfast

Sometimes, my kids drive me crazy with their constant fighting and screaming.  My two boys are very competitive.  They struggle for dominance in all aspects of life.  However, there are other times when my boys do things that completely surprise me and bring cheer to my soul.

One Saturday morning, the sun peeked in through the blinds.  I lay under my covers and stretched my limbs.  I did not want to get up.  Yet, I needed to get up or else I would not get the kids to Sabbath school on time.  "Ugh.  Mornings are so hard."  I thought to myself.  Slowly, I crawled out of bed and into the shower.  Even with hot water pouring over my head, I could not shake the cobwebs from my brain.  After my shower, I roamed about the bathroom in a zombie-like state. 

As I leaned toward the mirror to put on mascara, I heard little voices coming from the kitchen.  "Oh no!  The kids are up.  I'm not ready for them to be up."  My mind complained anxiously.  I fully expected them to fight over some toy in the living room or place each other in headlocks while running down the hallway.  Either way, the peace of the morning seemed over.   I hurriedly finished applying the mascara and threw my hair into a pony tail.  Then, I tiptoed to my bedroom door. 

From my door, I saw the most amazing sight.  Son #1 and Son #2 were dressed in their Sabbath clothes.  My youngest son sat patiently at the table while my oldest son served Cheerios into two bowls.  They spoke kindly to each other as Son #1 opened the refrigerator door to retrieve the milk.  Son #1 carefully poured milk into each bowl and then returned the carton to its shelf in the refrigerator.  Then, my oldest son placed both bowls of food onto the kitchen table.

Both of my boys bowed their heads and Son #2 began to pray.  "Deaw Jesus.  Tank you for da food.  Tank you for tomowow.  Bada bada bada  Amen!!!!"

The boys began to eat their food and chat about their morning.  Suddenly, Son #1 popped out of his seat.  "Oh!  I forgot worship!"  He shouted.  His younger brother began to babble excitedly as Son #1 grabbed the Bible from the counter.  When my oldest son returned to the table, both of the boys settled into their seats.  Son #1 opened the Bible to the book of Psalms and found one of his favorite verses.  He sweetly read the verses to his younger brother.  Son #2 listened intently, quietly chewing his cereal.  Once the worship was complete, Son #1 carefully placed the Bible back onto the counter and returned to his seat.  The boys continued to talk and eat until they had finished all their food.  Finally, they placed their dishes in the sink and made their way to the bathroom to brush their teeth. 

From my hiding place behind the door, my eyes grew misty and my heart burst with love.  It was wonderful to see the boys behaving well.  I was also thrilled to see them developing their own personal relationship with Jesus.  This is a morning that I will remember for the rest of my life.

The Popsicles

One sunny weekend, the boys and I made juice popsicles in our plastic popsicle holders.  First, we began by digging out the pitcher from the bottom cabinet.  Son #1 quickly opened the cabinet door and spied the needed pitcher.  Son #2 hopped up and down beside the freezer door as I searched for the frozen orange juice concentrate.  As soon as I found the orange juice concentrate, the boys dragged kitchen chairs to the counter and climbed onto the seats. 

"What are you guys doing?"  I asked playfully.

"We're going to help you make the popsicles!"  Son #1 shouted with excitement.

"I make popsicles!"  Son #2 echoed with delight.

"Alright."  I said as I relinquished the ingredients and stepped back to monitor their work.  "Are you guys ready?"

"Yeah!"  They both screamed.  Son #1 began to remove the lid to the juice concentrate while Son #2 jumped on the chair.  As soon as the lid  was taken off the juice concentrate container, I helped my oldest son squeeze the frozen contents into the pitcher.  Son #1 grunted as he tried to shake the frozen orange juice out of the tube.  "Mommy!"  He yelled in frustration.  "I can't get the orange juice out!"

"Hmm.  Let me help you."  I replied as I grabbed a spoon from the utensil drawer.  Together, we scooped the remaining contents of the tube into the pitcher.  Once empty, the tube was ready to be filled with water. 

Son #2 was dancing impatiently on the chair waiting for his turn.  He eyed the empty tube and chattered.  "I wanna pour da water!  I wanna pour da water!"

"O.K.  You can pour the water."  I responded while turning on the sink faucet. 

Son #2 cheered and held onto the small container with both of his chubby hands.  "I did it!"  He said proudly as he poured the water into the pitcher.

"I wanna do the next one!"  Son #1 said as he tapped me on the shoulder.

"Alright Baby."  I instructed my youngest son.  "You need to give the juice can to your brother."

Son #2 pouted for a moment but was persuaded to give up the container.  Son #1 smiled and thanked his younger brother.  Then, he proceeded to meticulously fill the can to the top.  Once full, Son #1 poured the water into the pitcher.  Finally, it was my turn to add the last can of water.  I quickly finished my task in order to have the boys mix the contents of the pitcher together. 

My two boys grinned as I handed each of them a mixing spoon.  They took turns mixing the concentrate and water.  Periodically, I could see the boys peeking into the pitcher to see if the frozen orange juice had dissolved.  I giggled to myself as I watched them work as a team.  Sometimes, there was a bit of shouting but it was resolved fairly quickly.

Eventually, the boys finished mixing the contents of the pitcher.  We carefully poured the orange juice into the popsicle containers and placed them in the freezer.  Then, the boys ran outside to play.  Several hours later, I removed two refreshing, orange popsicles from their containers and presented them to my little boys as they played in the backyard.  They both screamed with joy.  Son #1 and Son #2 immediately began to lick the frozen orange treat.  They sat beside each other on the concrete patio silently eating their popsicles.  After some time, Son #1 finished his popsicle and ran to the grass to play.  Son #2 quietly watched his brother as orange juice dripped onto his hands.  With his eyes half closed, my youngest son savored the remains of his popsicle as the warm sun melted it onto his clothes.

Did Bob the Builder Teach Us That?

The other day, I spent the afternoon tilling the vegetable garden and mowing the backyard.  I also transplanted my oregano and sage plants to a more aesthetically appropriate location in my yard.  By the end of the afternoon, I was covered in dirt but proud of my accomplishments.  Before going inside to shower, I turned to survey my work.  The soil was turned.  The seeds were planted.  The garden had been watered.  The grass had been cut.  All was right in our yard.

Once clean and dressed, I wandered the house picking up random clutter.  I stopped inside Son #1's room and peeked out his window at the newly transplanted herbs.  As I looked out through one of the window panes, Son #1walked into his room and tapped me on the shoulder.  "Mom?  What are you looking at?"  He asked quietly.

"Oh.  I'm just looking at the sage and oregano."  I replied as I pointed out their locations.

"They look good, Mom."  Son #1 commented casually.

"Thanks."  I said nodding my head in agreement.

Son #1 and I stood at the window observing the landscaping.  Then, my eldest son sighed, knelt down, and peered out the window.  I wondered what had caught his attention.  Son #1 was completely transfixed by this particularly interesting item.  Finally, my eldest son stood up and stated seriously.  "Mom.  The ground outside of the house is lower than the ground inside the house."

I squinted my eyes as I studied the ground outside the house.  Then, I turned to my eldest son and restated.  "So you're saying that the ground or the dirt outside is lower that the carpet that sits on our house's foundation."

"Huh?"  Son #1 responded with a confused look on his face.  "What's a foundation?"

"Well, our foundation is a slab of concrete.  That's what the builders used to begin building our house."  I explained.

Son #1 wrinkled his nose as he thought about foundations, concrete, landscaping, and construction.  He gazed out the window once more.  My eldest son was lost in his thoughts for a moment before he turned to me and asked.  "Did Bob the Builder teach us that?"

The Cat and the Lincoln Logs

We have a fourteen year old cat named Sketch.  Most days, she lays by the windows and sleeps in the sun.  She is very friendly and loves to be scratched between her ears.  At night, she'll cuddle up with one of our sons as they fall asleep for the night.  Sketch is a very sweet indoor cat.  However, she has one small flaw.

Sketch enjoys stealing small objects.  We discovered this one day while moving the sofa to deep clean the carpet.  As my husband and I scooted the sofa away from its usual resting place, we spied a treasure trove of our missing items.  A tube of lipstick, a bolt, a few pencils, and some other random objects were strategically nestled in her favorite hiding spot.  My husband and I were shocked.  We scolded our cat and retrieved our items.  From that day on, we eyed our naughty cat suspiciously when she got too close to one of our possessions. 

A couple days ago, the boys were constructing small buildings with their Lincoln Logs.  The logs were strewn across the living room floor as they created one and two story dwellings.  As soon as they were done, Son #1 knelt down to inspect each building carefully.  Son #2 grabbed a plastic bear, dog, and little man.  Our youngest son crawled to the Lincoln Log neighborhood and gently placed each toy near one of the houses.  When all had be inspected and approved by both of our children, my husband and I were called over to look at their creation. 

"Hey.  That's pretty cool!"  I said as I bent over to check out the tiny houses.

"Good job, boys!"  My husband exclaimed.  Then, he gave the kids high fives.

Son #1 yelled out excitedly.  "Look at this house!  It has a garage for the car and an upstairs so the bear won't get the person!"

"Ya!  Da bear is owtside!  Is scary!"  Son #2 agreed in a loud voice.

"Oh yes.  You're right."  I said gravely.

After showing my husband and I the houses, the boys trotted off to their rooms to place a car racing game.  Shrieks of laughter and also periodically shrieks of discord could be heard from Son #2's room.  Then, we heard the growl of pretend engines as the boys raced their cars up and down the hallway. 

While the boys were playing, Sketch slowly crept into the living room.  My husband and I were relaxing on the sofa.  I looked up from my magazine and asked.  "What do you think the cat is doing?"

My husband peeked over the newspaper and replied.  "I bet she's going to steal something."

Sketch arched her back and stretched her front paws forward.  She yawned and swished her tail casually.  However, her ears were tilted toward her whiskers and her whiskers were pointed at the toys.  I squinted my eyes as I observed her body language.  "Ske-e-e-tch."  I admonished.  "Don't you dare."

Sketch twirled in a circle and meowed innocently.  My husband disregarded her innocent meow and scolded.  "Sketch!  You leave those toys alone!"

Sketch flattened her ears, tucked her tail, and scrambled to the door of our bedroom.  As soon as the cat disappeared, my husband shouted for Son #1 and Son #2.  "Boys, come pick up the Lincoln Logs before the cat steals them!"

The kids scurried out of their rooms and hurriedly began to clean up their toys.  As they cleaned, Sketch quietly peered out from behind our bedroom door.  Disappointment could be seen in her eyes.  Clearly, she wanted to play with a Lincoln Log but her plans had been foiled.  However, I'm sure she'll soon be scouting out a new location for her next toy heist.