Two Cute

How can I be annoyed when they are just so darned cute? The boys have begun climbing into the same bed, along with all of their things. Two sets of blankets, two boys, two sets of animals, two sets of pillows…lots of stuff for a small toddler bed to hold!

The thing is that they have been talking back and forth for about 15 minutes now, after a full day, a busted chin, and lots of raucous spazing out for their cousin Catie.

I never thought the day would come, but suddenly, they seem to actually appreciate one another’s company and find comfort in one another again! A thing that hasn’t happened since their first few weeks of life!

Finn was even worried about Liam when he was “attacked” by a bird at the zoo. The bird just wanted to let Liam know that it wasn’t okay with him waving his hand in it’s face and bending down to its level to say, “Hi!” It flew at Liam’s glorious halo of hair with it’s talons outstretched, and basically just ruffled up his mane a bit. I think it really offended the friendly little guy, and scared him pretty well. Finn was pretty concerned though. He ran to Liam, bent down in front of him, looked up at Liam’s face, and asked very sincerely, if he was okay.

Ahh…nice boys.

Pru.

Crime Wave

So, the Creepy Mom strikes again.  Well, not really me this time, but Finn. 

There is a lovely grandmother from the Little Germ that has adopted us.  She has a grandson who is a bit delayed in speech and some physical abilities (I will call him “Jack”), but he is a very bright child, and all three boys seem to get along really well.  Liam enjoys making the little boy laugh, and Finn likes telling him what to do.  We try to get out of the house at least once a week and do something fun with Henri and her grandson, and she has always been super accommodating and understanding about Finn’s little issues…which are quickly turning into his big issues…mainly, his blood-lust and biting. 

With non-stop rain for the past four days (which will apparently continue into the next week), and everyone feeling completely stir-crazy ( I have seen a cannibalistic look in my children’s eyes this week upon denying them chocolate milk…), our adoptive grandmother and I decided to take the boys to the local Pump-it-Up.  Needless to say, every mother in this city, with children 6 and under (and some who seemed quite a bit older), had the very same idea. 

Long story shorter, the boys made themselves at home in the little Flintstone cars, and laid claim to them.  This meant that anyone attempting entrance into the cars was quickly removed.  Liam solved the problem of auto-theft by just remaining in the car and holding his ground in the exact same place.  Finn, however, decided that he really wanted to jump in the “bayoon houses,” so he ran back and forth between the car and the bounce house, expelling small and large children from the vehicle (and usually onto their heads) upon their trespass.  The boys can maneuver the inflated obstacles much faster than I can, in case anyone was wondering why I wasn’t doing anything to curtail Finn’s aggressive actions. 

At about the third kid Finn evicted from the car, I decided to keep him with me in the bounce house and watch he and the Jack in the same place.  Obstacles were decidedly more difficult for Jack, so he was the one I was most worried about, particularly with the insurgance of kids far too big to be with all of the little ones, and oblivious to stepping on them.  Finn, angered at my keeping him from his car, decided to sneak away when I couldn’t reach him, and pushed another child out and onto his head while he made a quick exit back toward his car. 

I was waiting for the year-old in the car to be toppled out while no parents supervised it, but Finn bypassed the car for the Foosball table instead!  Which was fine until I saw a six-year old girl run right in front of the opposing side of the table just as Finn thrust a rod her way.  Oif.  I think most parents know that sound (the dreaded, “Thuck!”)…sickening to hear…the sound of something smacking a head, really hard.  The rod hit the child smack-dab in the middle of her forehead.  And she dropped.   As none of the parents in the room seemed to be focused on any of the children crawling the walls, I was going to run to the child at the point where I noticed her trajectory and assessed that the rod was about to collide with cranium, but I was intercepted by grandma Henri, who turned me around and shook her head, and whispered, “No, you don’t want to get involved with that.  None of the parents were watching, that was their fault.”   Obviously, she is saving me from myself, as she has seen me fess up to Finn’s past incidents only to make things worse for all of us.

After trying to calm down a bit, Finn then turned on Jack.  I don’t think grandma understood just what I meant about Finn’s vampyric tendencies.  I don’t think she understood that when he does bite, he means serious business.  Jack was playing with a toy that Finn wanted, and although Jack is one of the kindest children I know, and shares everything he has without fuss, Finn lashed out with his patented “clamp and tear” bite.  Well, two of them, since Jack was mostly in shock and didn’t know how to react, or why Finn was doing it.  Grandma Henri understands my issue with Finn now, albeit a bit too personally.

Finn was totally unaffected by the morning’s events, as upon leaving he quickly discovered a stool that he could drag around to get him enough height to mess with the arcade games.  Really, I think his aim was to dismantle them rather than play them.  I just watched him, as I was still in shock.  I am still in shock today, and I think the weak-kneed feeling has been steadily increasing since my tripping of the 18-month old.   

Is it just boys?  What do other parents do?  The fighting in our house has been escalating beyond what I ever imagined two-year olds could accomplish in nastiness, premeditation, and vengeance.  The rain continues to pour, and supplies are dwindling…  At the point of this entry, I am not sure how much longer we can last…  I am hiding in the closet, but I can hear them sniffing around outside, and I am sure that I don’t have very long.  I will try to hold on… If you are reading this, please send h e l…Ahhhhhhhhhh…

Wherd Ungko Jongko?

That’s what we all want to know, but Finn feels Jon’s absence most painfully. He cried so hard leaving the airport upon Jon’s departure, that I had to offer them a day at the zoo…which might not seem like a big deal, but was actually quite frightening. I half-hoped that we had passed the exit, but apparently Finn also knows how to spell “Zoo,” and corrected me when he saw the exit sign. So, I had to make good on my promise.

Amid sorrow-filled wails and lamentations, and Liam’s valiant attempts at consoling his twin, Finn Finally perked up when we turned off the road and headed into the zoo’s parking area.

The boys don’t like riding in anything but a train or the grocery store “race-carts” (which seem to no longer exist), so the prospect ahead of me was one that filled me with fear… The boys would be on foot, and I would be unable to split myself to chase two of them in a very crowded place. I am not really sure what happened at some moments, but I do know that they did an amazing job of staying relatively close to me, and at least coming back to me, and I would like to pat myself on the back for remaining relatively calm. We rode the train twice, we saw almost all of the zoo, we had lunch (they requested “corn dogs” which seems to be their new favorite since our trip to the Alligator Farm”), they even let me use the restroom (albeit with much messing about with the door and the lock).

I think that was one of a handful of moments in which I almost felt like an adult human mom. They were really tired when we were leaving, so I carried them both out of the gate and to the car. We celebrated all the way to the car by singing, my skipping, and Liam’s imitation of someone shooting two guns into the air (where he got that I have no idea). (Speaking of having no idea, I have no idea what that must have looked like, but I am certain it was funny. A very short woman skipping with the glee of accomplishment while carrying two large toddlers, has got to be something of a sight.)

It was a good day, despite Jon’s getting back on the plane. The boys ran themselves tired, saw lots of animals, got to pet, hold, hug, and kiss a gopher tortoise, and Liam only fell out of his chair and onto his face once–and was physically unscathed!

The boys are in their parroting phase, apparently, which means that we may go into hiding soon, as they will be telling the world my secrets… As Jon noted, you can get them to repeat anything, and they will repeat lots of stuff you didn’t think they heard. He also noted that if we ever “talk smack” about him, he will know just by talking to the boys.

We had such a good time while Jon was here, we don’t really know what to do with ourselves now. It is much easier to take the boys out when I have a captive in the house, than it is having to ask people if they can handle outings with us.

Though, maybe it is these hermit-like tendencies that bring on Finn’s blood-lust. He rediscovered his vampyric nature right after I tripped the 18-month old. Coincidence?

The kid is sneaky, and bit a child at the Little Germ while Jon was holding onto him. Not even Jon was aware of what had happened. The little boy that had been trying to climb the same object that Finn wanted all to himself was crying harder than a child would be if they had just had their feelings hurt. Finn was so sly that nobody would have known what happened until they got the child home; and then they might not have known it was Finn that did it…but I decided to check the kid out, and indeed, there was the perfect imprint (he bit hard) of Finn’s teeth on the child’s upper arm. I alerted the mother anyway, and now it is quite possible that we really won’t be allowed back to the Germ.

I guess I have to get used to seeing clusters of angry mothers gathered in the parking lot to talk about my daemonic spawn. But not even that can take away from the power, joy, and elation I felt at being able to go to the zoo, alone, with two toddlers and no strolley, and walk around there for three hours without them requesting to be picked up!

Pru

Whiners

The morning started out wrong, so I should have known that leaving the house, or being in the company of any other human beings would be a bad idea today.  Liam began by not just refusing to eat, but throwing an epic fit, for which he was sent to his room until he emerged 15 minutes later, to let me know, “its okay, I all done.”  Then Finn followed up his iron-enhanced-juice with a nice “spit-up” down the front of his clothes right before we had to leave the house.

We went to the Little Germ, where we then encountered what seemed like a carnival of hundreds of children for mine to push, bite, run into, etc.  Though, they did seem to prefer to do those things to one another.

Upon exiting the gym, to my astonishment, I discovered that Liam can now open the heavy front door!  Trying to escape, not wanting to hold my hand, he pulled me out the door, and several other children tried to escape with us.  Playing tug-o-war with him, trying to keep the other kids inside and hold the door so that several didn’t get squished, and another mother could leave, I was unable to control any part of the circus-like situation.

Liam had pulled really good, and I stuck a foot out to gain my ground just as an 18-month old decided to book it.  He fell in slow motion, and I thought about lunging for him, but would have then risked pinning his sister in the door, and letting Liam get hit  by a car.  He fell so slowly and caught himself with his hands, so I thought I could just continue my hold on the door and the boys…but then he let his head drop!  His mother immediately threw up her hands and everything that was in them, came running, dropped to the ground and began a mental-patient-style chanting of, “Oh, my baby! My baby!  Mommy will make everything better, mommy will clean you up, mommy will fix it!” and cried so hard that the kid wouldn’t stop. 

If there had been blood, this might have been understandable.  Seeing as how the kid ended up with an upper-lip scrape of a mildness that neither of my boys have been so lucky to ever have (except on their arms or legs maybe), I don’t see what the fuss was over.  He wouldn’t let her look in his mouth, so she freaked out more, then he started crying again, and then she saw a little blood.  Really?  Finn’s teeth went through his lip, and there wasn’t anything I could do about that, and he stopped crying a whole lot sooner, and there was a whole lot more blood. 

Seeing the trickle of blood down the middle of his front teeth, she started crying harder, and was convinced he lost a tooth, or was going to.  I suppose there is more to her crying, and it is probably stress-related.  I can understand that, but for someone who over analyzes words, looks, and actions anyway, this really hurts, and tells me that I am a bad mother to have done such a thing to a child and his mother, especially when she is obviously stressed.

I feel like I was driving erratically and hit a pedestrian or something.  I didn’t even know what to do, or how to react, all I can recall is letting his twin out of the door, where her mother left her stuck, and the teacher coming out to serve me with a nasty look and a bag full of ice.  The bag full of ice made things a bit worse too, since the boys were then furiously trying to get at teh ice and the snack cups that the mother dropped.

I have to admit a tinge of guilt, and the feeling that I am a bad mother for not running to my children the moment they cry, or crying because they have a scratch or a bruise, etc.  I am also imagining that the witnesses and the mother are now recalling the event more along the lines of me having purposefully stuck out my foot to trip the child, or maybe even enhancing the story, and recalling that I kicked the child several feet into the air, from which he skidded for several feet,  until his face stopped him.

I stood there with the boys not knowing what to do for what seemed forever, and I still don’t know what I am supposed to do, or was supposed to do then.

Train-wreck Pru