The kid knows how to party.
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Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Bowling for Five
Well, the twins are five. Crazy.
Their birthday was a few days before their party, and they had a hard time fathoming how that works. I think in their minds, you become the next year old when everyone sings and you blow out the candles. We had quite a few busy days in between their real birthday and their birthday party.
April 29th, their birthday, was a Tuesday, so they started off the celebration with Gammy bringing over their favorite drink-- Pellegrino with Bai. They drank the drinks with straws and toasted each other. I made a treasure hunt for them with clues all over the house to find a a gift from us hidden under the couch-- a real goalie stick. They've been wanting a real goalie stick for quite awhile now, for their "real" hockey games in the house. Yay.
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| Birthday drinks |
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| Birthday breakfast sandwiches |
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| Spaghetti and meatballs and BREAD |
Our dear family friend Margo from out of town came over that night, played some Wii with the boys, and watched baseball with us. Cal was convinced that she spent the night because he tricked her and turned the lights off and she fell asleep. We went with it.
The next day we did what I have been dreading / looking forward to / sad about / happy about / unsure about for quite some time-- registered them for kindergarten! When we walked to the school to get registration forms the week before, Clark had asked to dress as Spiderman. We got some grins from passersby as we walked the three blocks to the school. The front office staff was elated to find out that Spiderman and his twin brother would be attending school there next fall. "How lucky for us!" one of them said.
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| Registration packets! |
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| Saving the light pole? |
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| Concerned citizen Theodore isn't sure about Spiderman's ability to take him safely down a slide. |
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| It all ended up fine. |
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| All registered! The elementary school doesn't know what is about to hit it. |
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| A couple of crazies |
Something much better that happened the following day is that we went to the National Zoo for a friend's birthday. We ended up having such a good time that I told my friend who brought us to drive home without us and the boys and I stayed for another hour and a half and caught the metro home. That was the first time I'd tackled the metro with all three boys by myself and it was a piece of cake.
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| Several brightly-clothed animals gathered for cupcakes at the zoo. |
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| Shockingly, a tiger escaped and was found lurking behind a garbage can! |
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| Thanks to some excellent photography, the tiger can be seen here up close. |
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| We got to see a Giant Panda eating bamboo... and this statue, which was not as cool. |
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| Teddy enjoyed his stroller-view of the zoo. |
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| Orangutan crossing! Sooo cool |
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| A mischievous lion joined the tiger at the panda exhibit. |
After a Saturday full of tee-ball and a tee-ball pizza party and tee-ball fundraising, we had a Sunday of Brian and I playing softball on our coed team, and then the boys party-- a duckpin bowling party! (Duckpin bowling is with smaller balls.) It was the least stressed I've ever been about one of their birthday parties. I sent the invitations, made the cakes and cupcakes, made a birthday banner, and sent Brian to buy plasticware for the cake. That's it. Not as creative as I like to be, but easy. Bowling alleys are not good places for picture-taking, but we managed to get a few pictures.
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| The birthday bowlers |
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| Cal poses |
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| Here's my banner |
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| Wish I had known the party room wall was painted like this...oh well |
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| Cakes, giant cupcakes, and mini cupcakes |
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| They each had a bowling lane cake with pin and ball candles |
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| Bowlers refreshing themselves |
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| Lighting the bowling pins candles... |
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| Making wishes... |
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| One of Calvin's approaches |
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| Little Teddy was awesome, though not quite ready for competition. |
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| Clark Aaron and his namesake...Uncle A |
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| And another Uncle A selfie |
It was quite a week of celebrations and events...well, and the tick. I'm proud of myself for getting this post up so quickly. Life is moving so fast these days!
Thursday, May 1, 2014
You Can't Marry a Worm
Every once in awhile I stop and hear myself talk and wonder how I began saying such weird things and thinking nothing of them. I've kept track of some of the things I've said over the past few days. Enjoy.
Get your foot off of his face. (I say this at least once a day)
I notice that you still have dust in your ears.
So you did try to eat the broccoli off the floor.
No! Do not hold your poop that long!
Don’t climb in the dishwasher.
Why is the hockey puck in the sink?
No! Stop eating your shoe!
Please don’t have a breath fight with Margo, that’s gross.
The doorknob is the worst place ever to lick.
I have no idea how many pockets there are in the world.
That’s a good idea, but you can’t put airbags in your body.
No, you can’t marry a worm.
On a similar note, these sights have become commonplace:
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| Poopy onesie at a ball game |
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| Dressing like this in public (inside-out tie dyed shirt, athletic shorts, hiking boots) |
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| Boy fallen asleep in hockey jock strap and cup |
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| So that's where all the toothpaste went. |
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| Drool/ boogers/spit-up |
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| Boys in sunroofs |
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| Seventeen balls and fourteen gears and ten books among other treasures under furniture while looking for a remote control |
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| Little man in lots of dirt by tee |
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| Spiderman on the playground/ sidewalk/ grocery store/ bathroom |
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| These three dudes. Everywhere. Always. |
Sunday, April 13, 2014
It Is Morning
It is 3:30 am in a dark house. A fan blows. A distant wind chime is heard from the sliding door that is opened a crack. A baby whimpers and then starts crying.
A weary mother rises mechanically and plucks the child from his bed. His feathery hair smells like a bath and is sticking straight up on his head. He makes eye contact with his mom through the grey shapes of the house, and he smiles. He squeals happily. The mother smiles back and sighs. She slips down the hall into the living room and sits on the couch with the baby, who bounces on her lap. He wants to play. She tickles him and he giggles.
She hears a soft pad, pad, padding of a sleepy boy's feet as he slowly enters the room-- a silhouette against the living room window.
"Mommy," he croaks.
"What, Calvin? Why are you awake? It's not morning yet."
"My bed woke me up."
"How did it do that?"
"I don't know, it just did. Just all of a sudden. It keeps happening," he explains. "Also my turtle light keeps waking me up."
"Well why did you turn your turtle light on?"
"I don't know. I guess it was too dark."
The little boy snuggles on the couch with his mom and baby brother for a few minutes until she gets up to go nurse the baby.
"I'm going back into my room to nurse Teddy now, Calvin. You need go back to bed too," she says calmly, as she rises and walks down the hall.
A quick intake of breath is followed by two other quick intakes.
"But, but, my bed is waking me up and the light is too bright," the young boy sputters. "Is it morning yet?"
"No, it's not. Turn off your turtle, Cal," she patiently explains again, "and it will be darker."
"But it's too dark when it's off and I can't sleep and my bed wakes me up." The whimpering gets louder.
"I have an idea," the mom says. "Keep the turtle light off and open the door to your room so it will be a little lighter but not too light."
Whimper.
"Ok," he whines painfully, into the night air of the house.
The little boy shuffles into his room and the mom goes to her room and sits down on the glider, having solved the problem. She closes her eyes, breathes a big, long sigh, and begins nursing. Sleep is close.
Shuffle, shuffle, pause. Shuffle, shuffle, pause. Boy feet on carpet.
The mom lifts her eyes to see her other boy in her face.
"Mmmmoooommmyyy?" Sputter, sputter. Whine. "Did you really say we have to sleep with the door all the way open?"
"No. No I did not say that, Clark." Frustration is setting in. Really? 4:00 am and all three boys are awake and two are arguing? The mom rolls her eyes in the dark room. Massages the back of her neck with her unoccupied hand. "If you want you can sleep with it open, but you don't have to."
Sniffle, sniffle. "Okay, Mommy," he quickly leaves, eager to tell his brother he was wrong.
The mom sighs again, stretches her legs all the way to her toes, and nuzzles Baby Teddy's warm little head.
Shuffle, shuffle, pause. The mom lifts her head and sees two swaying heads in the hallway on the other side of the crib. They appear to be deciding if bothering her again is worth it. She pretends to be asleep. They move away from the hall door. Then she hears their little breaths, their tiny whispers, as they look at her from out of the bathroom door this time. Still, she feigns sleep and hopes for the best. Their sounds disappear from the bathroom door and she thinks she has won.
The swaying, bobbing heads again silently appear on the other side of the crib. One boy enters the room. Immediately his is there, in her eyes.
Sniffle, sniffle. Louder this time. His heart is broken.
"Mommmmmm?" he moans.
"What, Cal?"
"Did you really say to Clark that we have to sleep with the door all the way closed? Not even open a crack?" he holds his hands out, palms up, and slouches his shoulders to show his utter despair over the door's possible position. "When will it be morning?"
She wryly smiles to herself at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Kisses Teddy on the head and lays him in his crib. She stretches to the tops of her fingertips.
"No, Cal. I said sleep with the door opened. Or closed, or partway open or partway closed. And no, it is not morning." She gains volume as she walks closer to their bedroom door. Becomes more and more irritated. She grabs the doorknob and illustrates her points, swinging the door open and closed in various stages-- various options of openness that they have. Maybe she does it a little wildly, a little desperately.
"Ok," they murmur, obediently filing into their bedroom, perhaps regretting their decision to rouse their mother again, but happy to know that they are not being forced to do something as abusive as sleep with their door a way contrary to the way they think it should be.
"I don't care how you do it, just go back to sleep," she loudly whispers.
Back in her room, she slips between her cool sheets and snuggles onto her pillow. Deep breath. Closes eyes. Peace.
Suddenly she opens her eyes with a jolt. Clark is standing there. It is light-- 6:30am.
"Mom, just so you know, Dad gave us milk to drink while he takes a shower," Clark explains, as if this makes any sense, as if the sleeping mother needs to know this nugget of information so badly that she needs to be wakened. She is speechless.
"Okay, bye Mom!" Clark is gone, yelling something about Spiderman's webs to Calvin.
The grumpy mother pulls the covers back to her chin.
The baby whimpers and moves in his crib. He squeals. Sunlight pokes her in her eyes through the slanted window blinds. Feet run up and down the hall.
It is morning.
"
"
A weary mother rises mechanically and plucks the child from his bed. His feathery hair smells like a bath and is sticking straight up on his head. He makes eye contact with his mom through the grey shapes of the house, and he smiles. He squeals happily. The mother smiles back and sighs. She slips down the hall into the living room and sits on the couch with the baby, who bounces on her lap. He wants to play. She tickles him and he giggles.
She hears a soft pad, pad, padding of a sleepy boy's feet as he slowly enters the room-- a silhouette against the living room window.
"Mommy," he croaks.
"What, Calvin? Why are you awake? It's not morning yet."
"My bed woke me up."
"How did it do that?"
"I don't know, it just did. Just all of a sudden. It keeps happening," he explains. "Also my turtle light keeps waking me up."
"Well why did you turn your turtle light on?"
"I don't know. I guess it was too dark."
The little boy snuggles on the couch with his mom and baby brother for a few minutes until she gets up to go nurse the baby.
"I'm going back into my room to nurse Teddy now, Calvin. You need go back to bed too," she says calmly, as she rises and walks down the hall.
A quick intake of breath is followed by two other quick intakes.
"But, but, my bed is waking me up and the light is too bright," the young boy sputters. "Is it morning yet?"
"No, it's not. Turn off your turtle, Cal," she patiently explains again, "and it will be darker."
"But it's too dark when it's off and I can't sleep and my bed wakes me up." The whimpering gets louder.
"I have an idea," the mom says. "Keep the turtle light off and open the door to your room so it will be a little lighter but not too light."
Whimper.
"Ok," he whines painfully, into the night air of the house.
The little boy shuffles into his room and the mom goes to her room and sits down on the glider, having solved the problem. She closes her eyes, breathes a big, long sigh, and begins nursing. Sleep is close.
Shuffle, shuffle, pause. Shuffle, shuffle, pause. Boy feet on carpet.
The mom lifts her eyes to see her other boy in her face.
"Mmmmoooommmyyy?" Sputter, sputter. Whine. "Did you really say we have to sleep with the door all the way open?"
"No. No I did not say that, Clark." Frustration is setting in. Really? 4:00 am and all three boys are awake and two are arguing? The mom rolls her eyes in the dark room. Massages the back of her neck with her unoccupied hand. "If you want you can sleep with it open, but you don't have to."
Sniffle, sniffle. "Okay, Mommy," he quickly leaves, eager to tell his brother he was wrong.
The mom sighs again, stretches her legs all the way to her toes, and nuzzles Baby Teddy's warm little head.
Shuffle, shuffle, pause. The mom lifts her head and sees two swaying heads in the hallway on the other side of the crib. They appear to be deciding if bothering her again is worth it. She pretends to be asleep. They move away from the hall door. Then she hears their little breaths, their tiny whispers, as they look at her from out of the bathroom door this time. Still, she feigns sleep and hopes for the best. Their sounds disappear from the bathroom door and she thinks she has won.
The swaying, bobbing heads again silently appear on the other side of the crib. One boy enters the room. Immediately his is there, in her eyes.
Sniffle, sniffle. Louder this time. His heart is broken.
"Mommmmmm?" he moans.
"What, Cal?"
"Did you really say to Clark that we have to sleep with the door all the way closed? Not even open a crack?" he holds his hands out, palms up, and slouches his shoulders to show his utter despair over the door's possible position. "When will it be morning?"
She wryly smiles to herself at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Kisses Teddy on the head and lays him in his crib. She stretches to the tops of her fingertips.
"No, Cal. I said sleep with the door opened. Or closed, or partway open or partway closed. And no, it is not morning." She gains volume as she walks closer to their bedroom door. Becomes more and more irritated. She grabs the doorknob and illustrates her points, swinging the door open and closed in various stages-- various options of openness that they have. Maybe she does it a little wildly, a little desperately.
"Ok," they murmur, obediently filing into their bedroom, perhaps regretting their decision to rouse their mother again, but happy to know that they are not being forced to do something as abusive as sleep with their door a way contrary to the way they think it should be.
"I don't care how you do it, just go back to sleep," she loudly whispers.
Back in her room, she slips between her cool sheets and snuggles onto her pillow. Deep breath. Closes eyes. Peace.
Suddenly she opens her eyes with a jolt. Clark is standing there. It is light-- 6:30am.
"Mom, just so you know, Dad gave us milk to drink while he takes a shower," Clark explains, as if this makes any sense, as if the sleeping mother needs to know this nugget of information so badly that she needs to be wakened. She is speechless.
"Okay, bye Mom!" Clark is gone, yelling something about Spiderman's webs to Calvin.
The grumpy mother pulls the covers back to her chin.
The baby whimpers and moves in his crib. He squeals. Sunlight pokes her in her eyes through the slanted window blinds. Feet run up and down the hall.
It is morning.
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| MORNING, MOM! |
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| Bonus Teddy picture |
"
"
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Can I See Your Sock Marks?
Cal and Clark are changing, but still refreshingly weird. They both have their interests and little obsessions. Their personalities are becoming more and more their own. Clark is the rule-follower; Cal is the mischievous one. Clark listens to instructions, but while instructions are being given, Calvin is climbing a fence or skating slowly in a circle or talking to a girl. Occasionally something will get through to him and he'll obey. But they both have endless imagination.
Dressing up is something they still love-- especially Clark. He went to the playground as The Incredible Hulk the other day and yesterday did his reading lesson through the eye holes on his Spiderman costume. Not too long ago he dressed up as a breakfast sandwich before he would eat his breakfast sandwich for breakfast. This morning he floor-squirmed out of his room dressed as a mermaid: a mermaid who plays baseball. He was flapping his one cleat around on his pajama-leg fin and tossing his golden hair (yellow shirt) over his shoulder. He wouldn't cooperate for me take a picture though, because he couldn't find anything acceptable for his clam shell bikini and I think he was a little embarrassed. The mermaid fascination is thanks to a Peter Pan beginning reading book we found at the library. Seriously. Those boys love the mermaid page. Which is weird yet predictable and inspires questions that are uncomfortable for me to answer.
Calvin seems to be developing his own special sophistication. Last night he told Gammy he preferred his juice with Pellegrino water. A few nights ago he asked if I cared to join him for a drink on the balcony. He said he'd drink out of his Superman canteen and I could have "wine or something," and that he'd get me a chair. What a guy. I don't use Pinterest often, but I've been using it while planning their birthday party. Now if he sees a picture on the internet that he likes, he says, "Pin it, Mom," with a very serious, all-business face. He was telling me about Twitter today. He still turns many things into space shuttles, rockets, lunar modules, etc. The other day, much to my surprise, he put toy astronauts into my water canteen for their return to Earth-- and it was a safe return.
But the weirdest thing of all lately, is Cal's marks obsession.
Over the past few months he has become obsessed with anything that leaves a mark on something else. Let me explain: if you move a piece of furniture that has left an indentation on the carpet, he wants to feel it and talk about it. He likes to move the hair rubber band that I keep around my wrist and feel and look at the mark that it has made on my skin. He likes to push things into his skin and see what happens. This began with his own fingernails and has broadened to include pencils and lids, among other things. He pushes hard too, and sometimes the marks on his own arm do not go away quickly. This troubles me a little.
His main marks obsession though is sock marks. After hockey and tee-ball all he wants to do is look at the marks the socks have made on his legs, and on Clark's legs. Each sock leaves a different mark and the way that the sock is worn also makes a difference. He mumbles about their differences and why they look different or the same and if one leg's marks is different that the other leg's marks. He delightedly proclaimed he had found Teddy's first sock marks! a few weeks ago. It seems that sock marks are often at the forefront of his mind. It's what he wants to check on when he has a spare moment. He wants to see if Brian or I have them, if Clark has them, etc. When he asks Clark to see his sock marks these days, Clark yells that he won't show him and that he hates showing Cal his sock marks and he runs away. Understandable. Honestly though, I don't mind letting him look at my sock marks because it astounds me how interested he is in them. Also it means I can sit down for a minute.
Hopefully the marks obsession will get toned down a bit before long, but I hope the imaginations never slow down or grow old.
Dressing up is something they still love-- especially Clark. He went to the playground as The Incredible Hulk the other day and yesterday did his reading lesson through the eye holes on his Spiderman costume. Not too long ago he dressed up as a breakfast sandwich before he would eat his breakfast sandwich for breakfast. This morning he floor-squirmed out of his room dressed as a mermaid: a mermaid who plays baseball. He was flapping his one cleat around on his pajama-leg fin and tossing his golden hair (yellow shirt) over his shoulder. He wouldn't cooperate for me take a picture though, because he couldn't find anything acceptable for his clam shell bikini and I think he was a little embarrassed. The mermaid fascination is thanks to a Peter Pan beginning reading book we found at the library. Seriously. Those boys love the mermaid page. Which is weird yet predictable and inspires questions that are uncomfortable for me to answer.
Calvin seems to be developing his own special sophistication. Last night he told Gammy he preferred his juice with Pellegrino water. A few nights ago he asked if I cared to join him for a drink on the balcony. He said he'd drink out of his Superman canteen and I could have "wine or something," and that he'd get me a chair. What a guy. I don't use Pinterest often, but I've been using it while planning their birthday party. Now if he sees a picture on the internet that he likes, he says, "Pin it, Mom," with a very serious, all-business face. He was telling me about Twitter today. He still turns many things into space shuttles, rockets, lunar modules, etc. The other day, much to my surprise, he put toy astronauts into my water canteen for their return to Earth-- and it was a safe return.
But the weirdest thing of all lately, is Cal's marks obsession.
Over the past few months he has become obsessed with anything that leaves a mark on something else. Let me explain: if you move a piece of furniture that has left an indentation on the carpet, he wants to feel it and talk about it. He likes to move the hair rubber band that I keep around my wrist and feel and look at the mark that it has made on my skin. He likes to push things into his skin and see what happens. This began with his own fingernails and has broadened to include pencils and lids, among other things. He pushes hard too, and sometimes the marks on his own arm do not go away quickly. This troubles me a little.
His main marks obsession though is sock marks. After hockey and tee-ball all he wants to do is look at the marks the socks have made on his legs, and on Clark's legs. Each sock leaves a different mark and the way that the sock is worn also makes a difference. He mumbles about their differences and why they look different or the same and if one leg's marks is different that the other leg's marks. He delightedly proclaimed he had found Teddy's first sock marks! a few weeks ago. It seems that sock marks are often at the forefront of his mind. It's what he wants to check on when he has a spare moment. He wants to see if Brian or I have them, if Clark has them, etc. When he asks Clark to see his sock marks these days, Clark yells that he won't show him and that he hates showing Cal his sock marks and he runs away. Understandable. Honestly though, I don't mind letting him look at my sock marks because it astounds me how interested he is in them. Also it means I can sit down for a minute.
Hopefully the marks obsession will get toned down a bit before long, but I hope the imaginations never slow down or grow old.
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| The only picture I could get of my little mermaid |
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| Cal checking Brian's sock marks... |
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| and Clark's sock marks... |
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
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