Cluster Feeding and Flustered Pleading

I think I'm regressing. I dreamed last night about building a really awesome GeoTrax layout. I guess creativity can strike anywhere. What the hay, I went ahead and gave it a shot and it actually was pretty cool.  I barely got it finished before I had to get back to my cluster-feeder.

Elijah surprised me by sleeping all night, two nights in a row and then began his rampage for milk. For the last 3 days and two nights I've rained milk hourly upon that boy. Somebody please send out the dove! If he's not nursing he's crying from exhaustion - no, wait, that's me.  Meanwhile, the house has collapsed and I think I will too. The "big" boys are bouncing off the walls and employing some desperate attention-getting tactics. All the toys are spilled and all the noises are shrill. Gotta love those growth spurts.

Brian made a funny office joke today and I ran with it.

The Cube-liette (The Cubicle Dungeon): Improving productivity through misery.

Two weekends ago we were trying to decide what we wanted to do. We ended up driving to the theater to see the Disney Oceans movie, but by the time we got there, the boys were asleep so we went to Ikea instead. That night Ian was very disappointed to return home without having seen the movie. This weekend we asked Ian what he wanted to do and he said he wanted to go see the fish movie. We were surprised he remembered it (I don't know why we would be surprised - he remembers everything). We took them to the movie Sunday afternoon and it was pretty good. I think Discovery had better narration and cinematography in their Earth and Life programs. What most amused me was listening to Ian's narration. It was an hour and a half of comments like:

That's a sad song. He's lonely for his mommy.
Ian got distracted with some popcorn and I pointed to the screen, saying, "Manatee." "Yes you may," he replied.
That's Nemo! That's lots of Nemos!
That's loud! Then quiet. Then loud. That's scary loud.
Mom, I can't burp real loud.
Two crabbies! That's a happy crabbie.
I want to leave the movie. I'm done now.




Isaac has better diction than Ian, but then again, Isaac is our little Mockingbird. I was changing Isaac and Ian comes up and says, "Hi Igick." Isaac replies, "I-zick. Can you say 'I-zick?'" Isaac enjoys discovering sound effects and thinking of words to say. He will be puttering with a toy and say, "Say 'pillow'." Ian repeats, "piwow." "Say 'pil-LOW.'" "Piwow." "Say, 'business.'" "Igick, I'm building a dangerous house." He babbles so much, it's unfortunately easy to tune out, so Isaac has turned to saying something, waiting a split second and following up with "I tode-ju...!" Sometimes he even talks over himself to say it. For instance, a 1-minute period may go like this: Fire truck fire truck fire truck. Good night ladies. Good night ladies. I'm go'n leave you now. Ring roun da rosie. Pop goes Isaac! Dinosaur is eating man. I'm going to jump. May I jum - I TODE-JU MAY I JUMP?!


Ian is our Thinker-Builder. He makes curtains for his trolley cars.

He makes toilet-paper capes for his cars. He uses his blocks to build houses with couches and TVs and lamps and slides for his little block "people". He is the boy that sits and pats his friend's back while his friend is being disciplined. Instead of talking about what he will do when he grows up, he says, "When I grow down, I will be a little baby and you will 'nuggle me and hold me and I will laugh and cry, 'wahhh' and nurse you and do all the fings I can do. He went to "check" on "Bebe 'Lijah" lying in his Kickin' Coaster (an AWESOME baby seat, by the way) and inspected his toes and said, "This piggy went to market, this piggy stayed with Dad, this piggy laughed, 'ooh hoo ha ha,' [skipping a toe] an' dis piggy runned away."

I've been loving my crazy new birthday shoes.

I actually exchanged these for ones with more foot coverage, but you get the idea. They are called Vibram Five Fingers. I won't go into all the foot-health benefits they claim, but they are fun and about as close to painless barefooting one can get without years of rigorous callous-building. I run around with the boys in the backyard with them and feel a little giddy. I glide (at least in my mind) across the bumps and dips of the terrain and feel agile and sure-footed, unlike the guesswork of running in regular shoes. We went to Line Creek last weekend and I tromped seamlessly from rocky-rooty trail to slipery-cool streambed. I couldn't resist sneaking out of the water for a moment to hit a creek-side trail like a swift ninja. Nevermind the 32-year-old mommy-body bounding down the path with more undulation than typically present in a ninja. That was somebody else.

Christmas Be-cation

Friday evening started our Christmas "be-cation," as Ian calls it.  I had the car ready to go when Brian arrived home early from work, so we hit the road.  That's one of Ian's favorite new phrases, by the way.  He'll tell me, "No, I do not want to go home.  I just want to hit the road." We drove until 8 or 9 and chose a Hampton Inn, predominantly for the free breakfast and inside doors.

Isaac thought the room was "yooper" (super). Ian was impressed too. They tried all the doors and drawers and buttons they could find. I started a bath for the boys while Brian dashed to the car for a few things. As I collected the boys' pajamas, they tossed two of our four towels into the tub and thrashed the bathwater with them. Brian returned and helped restore order as I milled around in a state of near-zombification. We each grabbed a hyperchild and melted into our respective Queen beds.

The next morning, I went downstairs and assembled an embarrassingly tall stack of scrumptious Belgian waffles and loaded my hoodie pockets with peanut butter and syrup. From the looks (and personal space) I was getting, it seemed no one wanted to be in the path of a very pregnant woman on a breakfast rampage. One person was brave enough to comment on how many people I must be feeding. Nevermind them, I thought.  My boys will love me for this. I sent Brian down for the fruit and drinks as the boys awakened and donned their syrupy grins. They kicked back like little princes with their catered mini-buffet.

Isaac pointed to the "yi-yoar" (dinosaur) on his shirt and roared. That apparently triggered a recollection of Ian's dream because he told me a dinosaur chomped him, but "Mommy fwat (swat) his tail and the dinosaur ran away."

Back on the freeway, we were slowly passing a semi truck. Isaac observed, saying in his toughest voice, "Big truck. Big truck. Big...where? (as it rolled out of sight)" One of their snacks was little natural fruit bits.  I asked Ian if he wanted some Fruit Nuggets and halfway through his bag he told me he likes his "chicken fruit."  Ok, no more Happy Meals.  Somehow, he also decided that the blueberry mini-muffins I brought were called "muffin dogs."

For what felt like the 20th time, we pulled into a rest stop with my bladder in a panic. I was hoping Brian would pull up and off-road for a bit for a smooth door-to-door potty transfer, but instead parked withing binocular distance of the restrooms. I chastised him and his reply was, "I thought I'd encourage you to walk a bit." The guy was just trying to be compliant with my Dr.'s orders that I stop every couple hours to stretch my legs, but in my urine-laden delirium,  I griped all the painful way to the ladies' room about him wanting to encourage me to unleash my burden all across the parking lot. Once again, the bladder muscles prevailed without incident and I returned to my human form.

The trip, as far as how the boys handled it, was extremely easy. They've become great little road-trippers. About and hour from our destination, we started hyping them up for our arrival at Grammy's house. I knew Ian remembered her when he proclaimed, "Grammy has a muffin for me!" My toddler-nutrition alarms cringed a little, but I settled back in my heated seat, grateful to not be picking up toys all day, and thought to myself, 'Tis the season!

Independence Days

My little guys are growing more independent every day. Ian wants to assemble the turkey sandwiches and cut his own food.  A dozen times a day, we forget some little task he can accomplish himself and he reminds us in panicked staccato, "I want to do it all by myself!" He doesn't even like to be reminded of anything. For instance, last night during prayers (which Isaac always reminds us to do), Ian started to interrupt Brian, with his usual request, and Brian said, "I know, you want us to pray for Thomas the Tank Engine." Ian furiously responded, "You may not tell me!!" Trying to correct himself, Brian suggested, "Oh, sorry, you go ahead and say it, Ian." Pouting, Ian replied, "I can't say it anymore. [making his voice creaky] I can't hear my voice." Finally he gave up the facade and placed his request for blessings on Thomas, along with Isaac's request to "pray. track." So Thomas and his track were well-blessed.

I've enjoyed Isaac's beverage preferences. Somehow he's come to the conclusion, during my pregnancy-induced ice cravings, that anything with ice is "num-nade" (lemonade).  If he sees we have something carbonated he wants "yoda."  Bubbly in your throat it is.

Brian starts his vacation time today - woo hoo!!  Time to go do more Christmas vacation prep!