Pettetos & Grackles

Pettetos and grackles have pretty much been the driving force behind our emergency makeover of the boys' room.

There are no pictures of the many heart-stopping moments Nate and Seth call "pettetos" because I was too busy growing grey hairs to document it via a photo. All I can say is that we most certainly converted the cribs at the right time and that we ditched the converted beds entirely when it became clear that pettetos were here to stay.

Petteto (pet-et-oh) 

– verb 

1. the act of perching oneself precariously atop a crib rail 

2. also the act of climbing atop a crib rail to gain access to things previously out of reach 

Grackles on the other hand appear to be isolated to assaulting a single piece of furniture in their room, but the truth is if it can be climbed or assaulted then my boys are probably already on it.

The end result of some recent early morning grackles looked like this:

In case this post suddenly seems a little like Groundhog Day, it's not – we really have been here before (at least more or less, although emphasis should be on less then and more now I suppose).

Same drawer but they managed to bend the hardware beyond repair on the opposite side this time:

Also this time they added a twist in the form of what they proudly announced was "Mommy's Reaching Stick™": 

Grackle (grak-el) 

– verb 

1. the act of causing maximum destruction to a specific item of furniture (likely dresser drawers) via climbing. Enhanced only by strewing any findings as the result of breakage about the room (most especially furniture contents). 

Tomorrow Phase II of  our "There gonna be some changes in here!" plan is in full effect and will be, without a doubt, the biggest undertaking of the 3 phases by far.

Please wish us luck.

- L.

PS. Mommy's Reaching Stick™ is a real thing and it does resemble the piece my boys tore off their dresser, except that mine isn't broken and I didn't tear it off a dresser. The real "reaching stick" is just a plain piece of MDF trim easily found at any Home Depot or similar. And no, it wasn't bought with the express purpose of becoming a reaching stick, but a leftover 3 foot scrap has come in handy on the many occasions my boys have stuffed toys in places a hand could never reach. And thus, Mommy's Reaching Stick™ was born.

Missing Gamma Rita

A pre-emptive caveat: I expect that at least half of this post will make no sense to anyone who doesn't speak both toddler and hasn't spent at least 8 weeks here doing their level best to mind-meld with Nate and Seth over the rest, but here goes... 

Gamma Rita left on a jet plane ("a BIG jet plane!") last Phthearsday.

My boys were pretty excited about seeing her off so we went outside after lunch to see if we could spot Gamma Rita's plane "up in the sky!". We have a pretty good view of planes departing and on any day other than this one we wouldn't have had to wait more than 2 minutes to see some type of aircraft overhead.

We waited as patiently as we could to wave to you Gamma Rita, but after 15 minutes we had to call it quits.

– Where is you Gamma Rita? I is looking and waiting.

– I straining real hard to see you right now, but you is not there. Where is you? 

– Seriously Gamma Rita... where IS you?!?
– I also still wondering where you is, but thinking at same time that maybe
I strain a little too hard in effort to find out.

It was pretty close to nap time anyway, but we had to shut down "Operation: Spot Gamma Rita" due to an unexpected passenger on board*.

That said, we gave it our best and even if we'd all managed to wave at a plane that day it wouldn't change the fact that Gamma Rita is missing and that we are all missing Gamma Rita.

• • • • • • • 

Dear Missing Gamma Rita:

Thank you for another summer of love. Between us we survived** a season of:

Dumpidee-do walks, wonkies, crookedy ones, tall ones, and broken ones. The naming of flowers – nas-TIER-tiums and cosmos and "the white ones too!". A million alligators, foxtails and dandi-loins. Endless trips to the yellow store, Different Mall and Shoppiers.

Potty learning. Lellow ones and brown ones and big-one-Nate-ones. "Get out of there!", "Switch ones!" and "You kill yourself!". Lullaboys and lillaboys and happy accidents from the latter.

Sausage kierlees, suppiers and making a workable seating arrangement schedule so we could finally stop "switching ones" and get down to the business of eating a meal.

A thousand swings with a lame wing, countless beards and earplanes. The Snow-beards we spotted overhead for a weekend were especially popular (I'll admit I was fairly impressed also). Old Razor-Eyes was excellent at spotting them all.

Kicky legs and fast legs and borrowing quotes from a movie to describe them. "Run Forrest, run!" still makes me laugh.

The rowing of boats, BBQ stands, scanicorns, strap-a-daps and skotches, not to mention all the SCRUNCH!

Boible stories*** and a sack of potatoes always wound the day down nicely.

And last but not least all those cursed watiers (fresh ones and warm ones most especially). You managed them as well as anyone could.

Thank you more than I can say for spending a summer helping me pick toddlers off the ceiling while keeping me sane and having enough humor left in you to have a laugh with me about it all at the end of the day.

We miss you, missing Gamma Rita.

Love,

- L. (and Seth! and Nate! and Seth! and Nate! and Seth! and Nate too!) 

• • • • • • •

*AKA poop. It's hard to tell a story these days that doesn't involve poop.

**I use the term "survived" loosely – even if it did occasionally feel like an endurance test along the way we had a good time, all of us.

***I might not have it in me to ever write posts about the nas-TIER-tiums or sausage kierlies but the Boible stories is too good not to write about. It's coming.

• • • • • • • 

PS. This post would not be complete without more pics, most especially ones of Gamma Rita and her grandsons, so without further ado...

Gamma Rita's babies.

The look that says it all.

Letting our little lights shine!

Despite many attempts to get the boys sitting still long enough for a picture with Gamma Rita, this was as close as we got:

After which Gamma Rita promptly checked for ants in Seth's pants. We never did find any, but requests for "more upside down" were abundant after this maneuver:

Practicing "Mr. Sun" with Nate. Gamma Rita is a good teacher (or maybe it was the other way around):

And of course, the day was never complete without those Boible stories!

Fore-Stains: The Video

It exists! My boys were a little short on declaring fore-stains last night, but I think it was mostly because they were busy doing fore-stains.

Our latest video presentation is brought to you by an impromptu cat-nap:

And a silly face: 

Both of which I'm sure were fuel for additional suppertime silliness in the form of fore-fore-fore-stains!

Enjoy!

- L.

PS. About the "teasing" business...

This one came about around the same time as the infamous "Fix the Nate!". Seth would often get into bed on the "wrong" side, Nate would get frustrated and Seth would end up asking me to "Fix the Nate!". Once I caught on I would say, "Stop teasing your brother - he doesn't like that".

When they get into bed now, Seth will still sometimes do a fake-out on stealing Nate's spot but then giggle and say "Teasing! Teasing brother!". Not sure how this one turned up in the video, but then again I'm still half in the dark over what a "fore-stain" is* aside from what I took a video of.

*Dipping one's toast in egg-yolk is also considered fore-stains. Really, I fully get Anasahnize and even though it took awhile to decode, I also know full well what a Tse-Tse is by now. Jury is still out on fore-stains if I were pressed to define it. At this point maybe it just implies something that covers something else?

*shrug*

Your guess is as good as mine.

The Great Tse-Tse Capers: Part I

Yesterday while I was making lunch and the boys were playing in the living room I couldn't help but notice things had gotten a little... quiet. 

And as you all know quiet + toddlers = trouble. Really it does, and very nearly every time.

I warily went to investigate and it's not so much that I was relieved at what I found, but in the big scheme of things a pillaged box of kleenex is pretty small potatoes.

And truth be told, I enjoy these moments. 

– It wasn't me, everyone!

– Oh, who I kidding? It totally me!

*stuff stuff stuff* *giggle*

Hey... 'dat look like fun, brother! I think I take some notes.

– So I can do 'dis.

– And whatever 'dis is.

• • • • • • •

"Whatever 'dis is" turned into 15 minutes of making clouds and snow and seagulls and just about anything else a 2 year old imagination could dream up to make out of Kleenex.

Watching them play with those ill-gotten tissues was a delight, but also a timely reminder of some posting that I've been meaning to get to – namely the often-mentioned-but-never-blogged-about "Great Tse-Tse Capers". 

Last December I never would have imagined that this humble box: 

Combined with this very hallway: 

... would be the impetus for not only the first of many "Great Tse-Tse Capers", but also the birthplace of my boys' first twin-speak word: "tse-tse"*.

And although I have referred to (and will continue to do so) incidences of tse-tse's as "The Great Tse-Tse Capers", not all tse-tse's are, in fact, capers. I was however already calling them that before I decoded what a "tse-tse" really is and truth be told 95% of the tse-tse's that happen at the OP are capers of one sort or another. I don't see that changing any time soon so the title stands, but truly a tse-tse is as follows:

Tse-tse 

– noun 

1. any mutual undertaking where hilarity is the end result. 

• • • • • • • 

– I is thinking 'bout making up a word right now.

– Funny you mention 'dat. I is thinking same thing.

– I think I call 'dis one "tse-tse".

– Is like you reading my mind brother. Oh wait... you is!

• • • • • • •

Of course, this post would be nearly meaningless without a video, so I posted one on our YouTube™ channel.

Special highlights include liberal use of the term "tse-tse!" (of course), as well as Seth sampling the flavors of this particular tse-tse at the 2:05 mark (at which point it's clear that intentional hilarity is not necessarily the exclusive domain of the tse-tse purveyors if you catch my drift). 

- L. 

*I hadn't a clue what was going on at the time, or that "tse-tse" would become such a big part of our vernacular at the OP. To be honest, I wasn't really even paying much attention to what they were saying at the time since it just sounded like toddler gibberish. It was only long after the fact that it became clear that "tse-tse" was a real (albeit made-up) word with meaning.

PS. This and this were likely the early iterations of this particular caper, but my boys were still working hard on saying "UP!" at the time (former) or things like "book", "apple" and "baby" (latter). In all fairness, they probably needed to get a few legit words under their belts before they branched out on their own.

In Case It Looks Like We Live At The Kitchen Table...

We don't – even though it feels that way most days. What can I say? Mealtimes at the OP are lengthy affairs.

I could say it's due to the volumes of food my boys inhale during the course of any given meal since that would be at least partly true – my boys are growing and have the appetites to show for it. Heaven knows our hour long plus mealtimes are certainly not because they eat particularly slowly.

No.

This right here though:

This is the real reason and in case you need a hint, I'll tell you that it starts with "shen" and ends with "anigans". That look Seth is giving speaks volumes.

And so it was on. 

– "FORE-STAINS!"*

Today's "breakfast special" also included some very creative clothing rearranging: 

In case you couldn't tell, Nate was pretty pleased with himself. Well, at least until the novelty wore off.

"Mommy fix it!"

Don't worry, I did. : ) 

- L.

*Fore-stains is a recent addition to our cryptophasia catalog at the OP. To be honest, I'm still trying to suss out the nuances but at this point I do know that touching their heads together in a mind-meld fashion constitutes "Fore-stains!" without question. Other examples include something that looks like they're trying to suffocate each other with pillows and mashing one's face into someone else's hand.

In an act of silliness last week while changing the boys' bedding, I balanced a balled up sheet on top of my head expecting a laugh. Instead Nate declared, "Mommy doing fore-stains!" and Seth agreed ("Mommy is doing fore-stains!"). They seemed pretty excited about it actually.

So other than fore-stains obviously having something to do with one's head, the rest is a bit of a mystery – to me at least – but it's quite clear whatever it means, it makes perfect sense to my boys

- L.

Before And After

I've had a few projects I've been meaning to get to for awhile now, and after the very sad news about Gram on Sunday I decided tackling at least one of them would be a welcome distraction.

Last December, I tackled a similar project following some nursery* shenanigans, and while it was a success at the time, the boys have found more than a few ways to get into mischief since then. Their ability to not only climb, but to find things to precariously stand on in order to do some especially precipitous climbing (something they pride themselves on by the way**) has led to their books (which they will still tear given the opportunity) migrating higher and higher up the nursery bookcase until the books were sitting on top of the bookshelves, rather than in them.

Even with bookends, it all seemed a bit wobbly and I realized that I've been reading less often to my boys as a result – getting the books down without causing a cascade of books to start sliding was starting to be something I would do reluctantly. I love reading to my guys and they love their stories, so yesterday seemed like a good day to finally do something about it.

And by something I mean making room in their closet for any books I don't let them have unlimited access to (which is most of them) and toys that can't be used without supervision.

Have I mentioned that we only have one closet in our 2 bedroom apartment? Because we do. I refer to it as the boys' closet because it's in their bedroom, but really it's an all-purpose closet, so making room for everything I needed to make room in there for was a serious undertaking.

And doing it all while two toddlers were "helping"? Well, that was just asking for trouble obviously.

Still, it made for terrific distraction.

Behold my helpers, moments before I relocated them:

Where they continued to "help" of course:

They eventually got curious about what I was up to however:

Around this point, I was having some serious misgivings about taking on this project since everything was in such a state of disaster it was kind of making me want to cry anyway. In the end I resorted to giving them some of the "forbidden books" to look at while I kept one eye on them and the other on the task at hand. 

The finished result(s): 

You'll note some red drawers privileges have returned – but not the super fun ones! – at least not until I get some latches that hopefully prevent climbing. The toys on the top of the bookshelf are all things they can stand on/make precipitous towers out of so that's why they've been reassigned. Things looked a little more balanced originally, but after supper last night, Nate and Seth actually managed to get a toy down from there while I was tidying up the kitchen. My only guess is that they stood on the bedrail since that's all they had available, but I'll admit it doesn't totally add up.

They're tall boys, but even with the bedrail, I just don't think they're that tall. Maybe they took turns standing on each other's shoulders until one of them managed it. To be honest, I wasn't in the room so I have no idea – but I did shore things up further after I saw they were still able to get up there somehow.

And last but not least, in case you were wondering... 

... Seth's favorite bucket is once again "OK".

- L.

PS. About the Vaseline... I ended up getting a great tip which turned out to be unnecessary for dealing with the boys' hair but was invaluable when it came to cleaning the bucket at least since soap and hot water were not getting the job done. The answer is baby oil. While it might sound counter-intuitive, baby oil cuts through the Vaseline grease and is easily removed with soap and hot water – in between, it sort of makes a bigger mess but it's short lived. Just wanted to pass that along in case you happen to have a Vaseline in the hair (or anywhere else) incident in your home.

• • • • • • •

*I've actually been very good about not calling the boys' room a nursery anymore, but it was still legitimately called that at the time.

**I mentioned cryptophasia in a previous post and since it ties in nicely with this one – and also since I haven't gotten around to a proper post about my boys and their "twin speak" yet (and at this rate, never will), "anasahnize" will serve for now. I've spelled that phonetically of course since the boys aren't big spellers yet. It took me awhile to figure out it's meaning, but quite specifically it is this:

Anasahnize (ah-NAH-sah-nize)

– verb

1. the act of standing upon something precipitous in a dangerous fashion. Best served with a side of giggles.

The after-effect of anasahnize sometimes look like this since anasahnize is often deployed for ill-gotten gains:

10:30 PM a few weeks ago, post-anasahnize.

And so proud of ourselves too!

The box that held those puzzles used to be located on top of their dresser where I assumed it was safely out of reach. This particular anasahnize incident involved stacking soft toys in their bed to make a tall enough tower to reach up there. When I walked in on the aftermath, both boys proudly declared "anasahnize!" and then had the temerity to try to reenact their crimes while I was still cleaning up the first one. Fortunately they are shameless that way because up until then I'd been scratching my head wondering how they'd managed it.

For whatever it's worth, anasahnize has worked it's way into the vernacular over here. Frankly it's easier to say, "No anasahnize!" than "Get off that wobbly tower because it's dangerous and also stop building dangerous wobbly towers so you can get at things that I don't want you getting at!".

Unfortunately we have enough words like this now that I'm pretty sure I won't even be speaking English by next year.

8:53 AM

Nate at 8:53 AM, February 01, 2012. Exactly two years old.

• • • • • • •

For Nate, my first:

Two years ago at this exact time you were born. A year ago, you were standing and crawling. You and your brother already had a few words under your belt, like "up" and "apple" and "baby". Of course, there were also some made-up words – the dibba-days and numma-nays – things I thought were baby babbles at the time, but have since come to realize are words that you and your brother have ascribed real meaning to. They are words all your own and since this post will likely be peppered with them I felt a need to caveat this part until I have time to write a proper post about cryptophasia, also known as twin-speak.

At two, you love to run and jump. You surprised me a little when you turned out to be my climber, but it turns out you're really quite good at it and haven't given me too many heart-stopping moments (yet).

You are also my chatterbug. Even though you and your brother are well-matched in terms of your vocabulary, you are more interested in talking and probably as a result articulate very well when you aren't upset.

I say that last part only because you have been known to enjoy the theatrics here and there. Everyone that knows you well will be at least a little surprised if drama isn't one of your favorite past-times in school. You've always excelled at making real tears, even when you aren't really very sad and you have a smile that lights up a room. I always know when you are really sad though because when it's legit you make Square-Mouth*. If you were playing poker, this would be your "tell".

At two, you are very much the life of the party and are the driving force behind most of the shenanigans and made-up games around here, although you share equally with your brother in the naming of things.

Your favorite game to play with Mommy is "10 kisses". You love to give kisses and are also down with your numbers, so it's a fun way to incorporate both. I know I love this game, but you invented it. Also, it tends to run way past 10 kisses for the most part, but that's just what we call it. So far your record is 44 kisses and you counted out each and every one of them (with only a little coaching once we'd hit 20).

Your favorite things to do (outside of 10 Kisses and whatever Seth is up to) include taking things apart to see how they work, finding things to climb, "abbets" and "numbahs", "reading" upside down, being upside down, and faking injuries for the kisses that are in it. You are the purveyor of bonks*, chewnits*, torn-its*, boons*, kai-ai's*, pah-guts* and wu-fu's*.

You still love your drum and swaying to a beat or song. You enjoy making art, but mostly on yourself.

Your favorite color is orange and your favorite number is 6. You still use both hands equally to do everything. You are learning to be a good helper and you especially enjoy helping with laundry. You surprised me last night when I asked for help tidying up the nursery so we could have stories before bed. It was kind of a first, but then you really love your stories – especially Snuggle Puppy, which oddly enough ends up with a big smooch at the end.

Big smooches to you today, Nate. I hope you have the happiest of happy birthdays.

All my love,
Mommy