Jump-starting my imagination

E: Mommy, I have some eggs benedict for you.
(Shows me a plate full of coins.)
Me: Where did that money come from?
E: It's not money, it's eggs benedict.
Me: Well, then, where did the eggs benedict come from?
E: I just made it.
Me: But where did the ingredients come from?
E: I got them at Ikea.

Oh. Guess it's time to eat some eggs benedict.

Riding the Rapids of Life

Time keeps flowing no matter how I wish for a respite.
I don't write.
I am scattered.
At times I struggle for breath.

I am overwhelmed by a torrent of activities and fundraisers.
Elementary school, preschool, temple, sunday school, art classes, cub scouts, field trips.
Drop offs and pick ups. Never-ending plains of dishes. Mountains of laundry.
The water level rises.

Currents and eddies pull me this way and that. Occasionally I find some respite.

Little things matter. For R, my sensitive one, a host of worries accompany the first loose tooth:
First, "Mommy, I think we should go to the dentist. My tooth hurts. I bit a popsicle stick." Once we explained that he's probably just losing his first baby tooth. "Mommy, I don't think I should eat anything hard until my baby tooth falls out and my new tooth comes in." And tonight, "Mommy, tomorrow, let's google the tooth fairy, to see if she will take a note if I swallow my tooth and still give me a prize."

My dreamer, E, assured me he wanted to go to preschool "all the days as I can". Now that he is enrolled four days a week, I think he misses leisurely mornings with mommy as much as I do. We make up for lost time in the afternoon. "Mommy, this is a magic broomstick that will take us to Mars. Oh - we forgot the map. [pushes imaginary button on wall] Here it is! Now we can go to Mars." And later, "Mommy, let's pretend we're ladybugs and we're climbing up the stems to get the aphids. Now I'm a ladybug with a kitchen. What would you like to eat? I have aphid chicken soup for you. And some ice cream."

Now 9 months old, V is a beautiful, exhausting whirlwind of ups and downs.
He enchants me with his squeals of delight. He calls for mama when is tired or hungry, and melts my heart. He impresses me with his cleverness by heading straight for the cat food when he wants to be picked up. He tosses food on the floor when it's not to his liking - only to change is mind and eat it from the floor before I get to cleaning it up. His top two front teeth have finally broken through, after weeks of teething pain and accompanying sleepless nights. Still, on few nights I get to sleep through until 5 or 6, I wake up startled and worried that I haven't heard from him yet. All too soon, I'm sure, I'll miss his morning snuggles.

I feel battered physically & emotionally from life's ride these past few months. I still want to finish unpacking, organize, start making little repairs and improvements we've imagined - but I find it impossible to make any headway in the midst of the bedlam created by our beautiful boys. I need to take care of my health but it always takes a backseat to my babies. I don't work, and yet I still struggle for balance.

Milestones pass in the blink of an eye. The current is swift. I often find it hard to sit back and enjoy the ride, but it is always well worth it when I do.

Potty party

Only parents of toddlers will appreciate this:

E went and pooped in the potty all by himself today - on time, and without any prompting, help, or parental involvement of any sort.

Hooray!

Hole in our Hearts

Mommy, before the movers come, next time we move, we should dig in the same hole where we put Mira, and see if she is still there. If she is not there, then we know she is in heaven.

She left us as she came to us, loving the warm sunshine, the outdoors, and eating tuna.

Is this normal?

Boys!

It's nice that they're learning to play together, but ...

Playing in the backyard:
Inventor to Painter: Mr. Repairman, I need to fix my car.
Painter to Inventor: I'm the car breaker. I'm breaking your car.
I to P: NOOoo. I need to fix my car.
P to I: I'm going to break your car.

Playing in the living room:
Painter, while lying on top of Inventor: Here's a nice soft carpet.
I gets up.
P: Come back here carpet.
I, lying on top of P: Here's a nice soft carpet.
P gets up.
I: Come back here carpet.
This scene is from today. Yesterday it was lying on "nice soft grass" outside. The day before it was stepping on "the stairs".

Playing anywhere:
One of them: I'm shooting my bomb-shooter at you.
The other: I exploded your bomb shooter. I'm shooting poison at you.
The first: I ran away from your poison. I pushed the "die" button.

Or this:
First: I threw you in the trash.
Second: I threw you in the diaper pail.
First: You're kitty poop.
Second: You're a poopy diaper.

Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Help! I'm living in a house of lunatics and they're trying to turn me into one.

Or maybe I already am crazy and this is all normal.

From the mouths of babes ...

At the breakfast table Saturday morning, as A.D. and I explain to D. the subtle difference between "commercial" and "advertisement".

Inventor: "Daddy, commercials are shows we don't want to watch."