Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Don't Forget.

"Be a whore, Mommy."

My two year old has recently learned how to say the endings to his words...  So now instead of asking everyone who comes over to be a whore - he simply says, "Beep your Horn."

Here's a 6 second clip of my day.
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I've been dressing the kids a like lately because 1) I'm THAT mom. 2) Its easy to find them when one goes missing. Which tends to happen more and more.


Matthew is talking up a storm. He's 15 months now. But for the last few months has said and signed: More, Milk, All Done. He says: Hold me, Here, Good, Baby, Nana, Mama, Dada, Adam, etc. Sometimes, Matthew asks me about my views on global climate change, if organic food is really better for you than conventional, if all contemporary Christian praise and worship songs need a key change at the bridge… He's pretty advanced for his age.

Adam is speaking in paragraphs. He has a story for everyone. He's very polite, saying 'thank you' all the time, holding doors and gates open. He especially likes to help his brother by holding the baby gates by the stairs open.

He loves to be outside and to push his mower wherever we go. He's pushed it all over downtown, at the mall, up and down the sidewalk with or without pants.


Adam is such a good big brother. I love seeing the two of them play. Adam loves to hold out his arms while Matthew walks to him. He also likes to push him down and steal his toys. 

Pants are apparently optional at our house if you are a boy. Chores are not. 


Adam is very fond of school and school buses. And trains and airplanes. In fact sometimes we have to sing a 14 minute spontaneous song about airplanes, trains, and school buses before he can promise he will go to bed.

Matthew is very fond of kisses. He's decided that at 15 and 1/2 months old, maybe now is a good time to start walking. He's also a comedian. Only he's the only one who gets his jokes.
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Everyday that goes by I think: "I have to write this moment down so I never forget it."  And then, without warning, Matthew is choking on my lap and I'm flipping him over on his stomach, driving the palm of my hand in between his shoulder blades in an attempt to dislodge the huge paste of Annie's Cheddar Bunnies that I gave him for a snack. After that a school bus drives by and Adam starts to squeal and of course we have to talk about why it didn't stop and where is it going and why is it going there and why can't he ride it and why I don't know.

Speaking of why, "Why you have your 'chooz"on?" Adam is horrified when guests come over with their shoes on. He'll ask you why until you take them off. "Silly Nana! You don't wear 'chooz' in the house!"
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"Ye-ah" Says Adam. Quickly followed by, "Connie says, 'Ye-ah' all the time."

Did I mention the time I took Adam to the hair salon to get a summer cut. It was the same day that someone punched me in the gut and I cried because I saw how big he's getting.

Andy had turned every Saturday morning into a boys only trip to the bakery where they get "appa sah dough-doughs". Adam is in charge of the white bag that the donuts come in and also distributes the proper donut to the proper person. Matthew is ok with this as long as he gets his donut immediately.


Matthew has finally turned a corner in the sleep department. As long as he gets his political debate in, he's ready for a story, a milk nightcap, and a song at 7:30 every night.  Both boys are really good sleepers and I try not to hold it over Matthew's head that he didn't sleep until he was 9 months old while his big brother had it down at 9 weeks.

Adam may or not be in his bed when I go to tuck him in before locking up for the night. Sometimes he's between the wall and his curtains. Sometimes he's in his closet. Sometimes he's sleeping directly in front of his bedroom door that you accidentally step on him when you run frantically to his bedside looking for signs of where he could have gone.

And I try not to hold it over Adam's head that Matthew eats his food. And I try not to dwell on the fact that Matthew also likes to throw his food.

They are quite the artists and neither child seems that interested in eating the paint anymore.

Anyway, all of this to say, I forget to write the moments down. And no, I'm not forced to give Matthew the Heimlich Manuever everyday. But its one moment after and another. And quickly the moments slip away and are replaced by new ones and you're sitting in front of your computer screen trying to write a blog about the moments that you've already forgotten that is so clever and witty that surely one day Good Morning America will read it and think, "HEY! GET THIS GIRL ON OUR SHOW!"




Don't forget.

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