Who, me?Recently, when anyone has asked me how are the boys, I most likely responded with a sigh or a grrrr before launching into a litany of complaints: the screaming, the aversion to sleeping, the pooping, the stubbornness, the screaming, the meltdowns, the messes, and did I mention ALL THE %&!#ING SCREAMING. (And I don't just mean the boys. Poor Matt.) But sometimes, they are so unbelievably sweet.
I was in the kitchen yesterday, washing dishes and listening to the boys play in the living room. "Stop, Evan! I need to work!" Ethan squawked. (Where did he learn that? Ooooh, guilt). "OK, Baby, we can do teamwork," he amended. (Oh, phew). "You hold it right here. You're helping me! What's gonna work? TEEEEAMWORK." I desperately wanted to peek at what they were doing but was reluctant to ruin the moment. I eavesdropped on Evan's happy chatter and Ethan's commentary while I cleaned the whole kitchen by myself. Aaahh.
Every bare patch of dirt is a thrilling treasure for Ethan. "Mom! I need to shoop some dirt here!" "Mom! This is my own garden!" In his own gardens, he digs little holes and sets sticks upright in them. "Look, Mom! Mine flowers are gwowing! And a wadish! And a mato!" he shouts triumphantly. "HEY! THAT'SNOTAWEEDDON'TPICKTHAT!"
I'm only guessing, but I'm pretty sure Evan has gained at least 85 pounds in the last week. He scarfs down his bowl of cereal every morning and then eats several trillion cheerios. He smacks his lips eagerly when someone nearby is eating and mooches whatever he can get his little grabby hands on. (I hate this stage, where I can't eat junk food in front of the baby. Ethan is old enough now that I'll share a little treat with him or explain that he needs to choose food that will help him grow -"Wike my daddy and Paul!"-; but it seems mean to not share with Evan. So I have to snack on stuff that I'm ok with him eating, or sneak the good stuff when he's not around. And he is ALWAYS AROUND. ) One morning, the boys ate an entire cantalope. They'll eat a bunch of bananas the same day I've been to the store. Ethan can eat a whole steak and Evan is getting pretty close. Apparently one area we won't be cutting costs is groceries. I'll have to go back to work when they are teenagers just so I can afford to feed them!
So. Right now, they are both asleep- long lashes resting on peaceful faces, Evan's little smiles and soft sounds, Ethan's long legs sprawled every which way. Twenty minutes ago, the house was filled with screams and protests and I felt like I was drowning. Now, I can't help leaning down to kiss those soft cheeks one more time. Maybe I wouldn't appreciate these quiet moments as much if there weren't so many loud ones in between.
What is this "choking hazard" you speak of?
