The Lords of the Dance

Within the past couple of weeks, the boys have displayed a new skill while in potentially dangerous areas of the house. This began with Liam standing at the top of the stairs, holding on to the iron railing, and shuffling his feet while hopping. He looked like a tiny Michael Flatley, the Irish dancer, sans high-waisted black pants, headband, and dancing shoes. Graeme quickly caught on, since I was obviously entertained by this little show. Graeme decided to inaugurate his dancing career in the just-drained bathtub, while holding on to the handles on either side of the tub. I was again amused, though I had to hide my smiles while telling Graeme that he shouldn't dance in a wet, slick bathtub (I had to at least try to be responsible while stifling the laughter).

Then the funniest moment of the month occurred last night when bath time was over (I don't get out much). I lifted Liam out of the tub and dried him off. Still naked, he grabbed his huge, size-of-a-cat rubber duck, hugged it tightly to his chest, and danced his little butt off with a serious look on his face. I laughed so hard I almost cried. Riverdance, they're ready for an audition, and they even have appropriate names.

So Much to Say (apologies to Dave Matthews)

Random things said by adults in my home in the past few weeks:

Stop licking the toilet! - said twice, yes, twice by me, within 72 hours. I bought a step stool for the powder room so the boys could stand on it to reach the sink and wash their hands. While Liam was at the sink, Graeme started licking the top of the closed toilet seat lid. A few days later, he did the same thing.

It's not like I have sh*t hanging off my hands! - said by Sean when I asked him to wash his hands after handling the outside of a poopy diaper.

Oh, you have on your halo again? - said by me when Liam put a towel ring (hung at waist height) over his head in my bathroom. This is a favorite activity of his, one I find amusing since he's usually being more of a devil around the time he puts the "halo" on.

Liam, this would work better if you would stop hitting me in the head with the hat - said by Sean while wiping Graeme's butt and being bludgeoned in the head with a rain hat made for a rubber duck the size of a cat.

Yes, "mommy poo poo"! - enthusiastically said by me after Liam used these words to tell me he had just pooped.

Do you want to watch Daddy pee? - said by me a few times recently since we're introducing the concept of using the potty instead of diapers. I think it's important for them to see that eventually they'll be standing up to pee in the toilet, so they have watched Sean pee and they appear fascinated. Probably too much information for most people, but here it is anyway.

Choo choo eggs? - said by me in response to Liam moving a piece of scrambled eggs around the table and saying "choo choo". Both boys love trains, which they call choo choos, and they have started making choo choos with several different types of food.


And a few amusing phrases from the boys:


Buttttsss!!!!!! - said by Graeme whenever he sees the screen saver on my laptop, which is a picture of the boys at 10 months, standing naked facing away from the camera, so the first things you see when you look at the photo are two baby butts.

Cream, cream, cream (with Spanish trilled R's) - said urgently by Graeme while he rubs his arm as if to put on cream. This is a new way of saying that he wants to go outside, b/c we put on sunscreen before going out. Who knows why he trills the R's, though I'm not surprised considering his other accents.

Mommy Daddy - rapidly said by Graeme when Sean and I are both present and he's talking to one of us. It seems to work for him since it includes both of us, therefore increasing his chances that one of us will give him what he wants.

Daddy Honey - said by Graeme on occasion when talking about Sean. I call Sean honey sometimes, and obviously Graeme has picked up on this.

Peas? Tank choo! - said by Liam at the table to ask for more food. He still can't quite get the L in please. We're also working on the "thank you" coming after he's received the food and not before.

That's all for now. My goal is to have un-licked toilets this week!

Indoor Plumbing

Another note from Sean:

So, I’ve been waiting to write this post since May of last year when we moved into our “house” in Singapore. Yes, I know we haven’t sent anyone pictures and that’s because we haven’t taken any when it’s not a twin hurricane disaster. Usually because we’re still cleaning (by we I mean people other than me), recovering, or sleeping. They’re on the list. The point is that I had to have a picture for this one and I took it today.

Our house is Singapore is great. It’s what they call “semi-detached” which means we have one common wall with another home (this has led to some amusing moments). Sharing a wall isn’t really a big deal here though because the walls are made of stone and concrete covered in plaster. Not a lot is getting through. As for the house, think of the nicest duplex you’ve ever seen. Add marble floors and vaulted ceilings. Shrink the kitchen 70%. Put a separate “aircon” in each room. It’s 2700 square feet and four bedrooms. There are six toilets, which is likely another post. We live well for expats and very well for most people here.

The first week we were in the house I was laying in our bed in the master bedroom looking at the ceiling, when I noticed something odd. Now, our entire bedroom is an odd shape. It’s a large “L” with the bathroom taking up the cutout that would make it a rectangle. The door is at the top of the “L” and the entrance to the bathroom is at bottom around the corner. There is also a slight inset where the windows are at the base of the “L”. This is where I was looking at the ceiling. I noticed a rectangular shape (see top picture) coming down from the roof to the corner of the inset and then dropping the height of the room along the wall (see middle picture).

Based on the size and shape of the rectangular tube, the first thought that came to me was, “Is that a gutter?” But I knew that couldn’t be right. Who cuts a hole in a concrete roof to run a rain gutter from outside our watertight home into the house? Who would run that same rain gutter the length of a wall and then cut another hole through concrete and stone to pipe it back outside? The answer is whoever built our house. Seriously, look at the pictures. We got confirmation after our first big rain. It was like having our own indoor waterfall sound effect.

The topper for me is the bottom of the gutter. You’ll notice that there is a slant on the entry from the roof. Well, that’s not the case for the exit (see bottom picture), which adds another question. Who pipes water out with a square turn? I just hope we aren’t living here when the bottom finally rusts out. This will stop being amusing if we have to deal with the process of replacing it.

Dadatouille

So, there’s this movie that you’ve seen if you have kids old enough to see movies last year. If you don’t, this one may be a loss for you. The movie is called Ratatouille and it’s basically about this rat who learns to be a gourmet chef by watching TV. As it later unfolds, he makes his way to Paris and ends up helping the unknowing, illegitimate son of the deceased TV chef restore his restaurant and family name to culinary greatness. He does this by hiding under the man’s hat and controlling him like a puppeteer by pulling his hair in various ways and directions. Rodent-driven hilarity ensues…

No, this entry is not a movie review, it’s about Graeme. Graeme has to be viewed much the way communism was viewed by the US in the 1960’s. You can’t control him, you can only contain him. One surefire way I’ve found to prevent his immediate proximity from becoming a swath of destruction is to pick him up. Way up. He’s gotten heavy and I’ve gotten out of shape, so there’s no holding him on your hip (unless you're his mommy - T). Also, he refuses to grip with his legs, so if you try that you have to support his whole dead weight. Trust me, he’s heavy for 26 pounds.

All that said, I’ve taken to putting him up on my shoulders. He loves it. He loves it when I stand in front of the mirror and he can see himself. He loves it when I jump up and down. He loves it when I do the “bionic spin” (my brother Jeff may remember this from childhood. The bionic spin is that game we’ve all played where you spin around and around in circles until you stop and you are so dizzy you fall down and laugh hysterically at yourself. Admit it, you’ve done it too.) Graeme does not like the dizzy part or the falling, but he hasn’t puzzled out cause and effect yet. The things I’m getting away with right now…

While he loves this game and it prevents me from herniating and him from escaping to go build and detonate a nuclear device (he’s an interesting mix of creative and destructive for a two year old), he doesn’t fully trust that I’ve got a hold on him. Herein lies the tale. Graeme also likes to pull hair. Now, my hair is short, but my son is committed. He buries a hand in either side of my scalp and takes that powerful grip that only a child can have on two fists full of hair and pulls. Sometimes he pulls so hard I have to change direction or react in some other way just like the chef with the rat, thus Dadatouille. This might be one you have to see to really appreciate.

An Apple a Day – The Hard Way

There are some things our sons do that one of us finds more amusing than the other. This is usually based on who it annoys more and that is usually based on who has to deal with it more often. Given my travel schedule this leads to weekends filled with me laughing at things while my wife glares at me and says, “Don’t encourage him/them,” through gritted teeth. Sometimes I can’t tell if she’s trying not to laugh or not to kill one of us (probably me).

So, the other day I’m sitting on the couch with my lap top (it was either a presentation or email I don’t want to remember which) during feeding time at the zoo when I hear Graeme in mantra mode, “Apple, apple, apple, apple, apple…” ad nauseum. This prompts the clueless commuter father quip of the afternoon, “They eat apples?”

Tiffany’s patient reply, “Yes.”

“What kind,” I asked. Honestly I had no idea.

“This kind.” She says as she holds up a chunk of watermelon.

“Uh, that’s not an apple.”

“I know.”

While the boys' vocabulary is exploding right now (today I got to hear “raining, cool, pool, doh!” and others), we’re apparently having a comprehension issue with fruits and vegetables. All fruit is now declared an apple, and based on dinner last night either their mother has discovered some kind of orange beans or they’re declaring carrots and all else vegetable as “bean, bean, bean.” God help you if there’s one on the floor. All other activity must stop until it’s been picked up.

I think the boys may be using tones to differentiate the precise meaning of words like they do in Chinese, but Tiffany and I don’t speak secret twin language. All I know is that this is not what the doctor had in mind when he said an apple a day.

The many accents of my children

Bizarre pronunciations, courtesy of G & L during the past couple of weeks:

Aben = open in Graeme-speak, also Danish for open

Cah = car for both boys, in a Boston accent

Bobby = baby for Graeme; he's switched from southern "baybee" to British policeman

Pewp = poop for Graeme, only occasionally; sometimes he actually says poop

Uhhhhhhhh, ohh = uh oh, in Liam-speak, when he drops something or sees something out of sorts

Beard = bird for Graeme

Nooooo = no for Graeme, in a North Dakota accent

Nose = nose for Graeme, also in a Fargo accent

Toes = toes for Graeme, again with Fargo (when did he visit this part of the midwest, or, heaven help me, see the movie?)

Uppah = airplane for Liam

Cack = cat for Graeme

Buh = butt for Liam

Butttt = butt for Graeme; evidently one drops the consonant, and the other makes up for it

Mouse!!!!! = mouse from Goodnight Moon, when Liam finds him

Elmo = elbow for both boys, or Elmo if they are pointing towards the TV, begging to watch Elmo's World

Mom-o = me, one afternoon when the boys were discussing Elmo and Mommy at the same time

aight = light; the little gangstas still haven't learned how to say this correctly

Their current favorite word is bubbles, which they somehow say correctly. All bubbles are great things to them, including the liquid kind you create with a wand, soap bubbles from washing hands or hair, and pictures of any type of bubbles in books. Lately, every night before bed, we read a story called Time for Bed. On one page, a fish blows bubbles, and the boys go nuts repeating "bubbles" quite loudly. I'm trying to teach them the concept of using their inside voices, so I will whisper "bubbles", and they will whisper it back. Very cute. Sometimes they can't control themselves and shout it again. Not so cute, but still funny.

Freedom!

Ah yes, the fun has begun. Liam's poop schedule had somehow switched to bedtime over this past week, and he did not want to go to sleep after I changed him Friday night. He decided to climb out of his crib, which he had tried to do occasionally in the past but couldn't quite make it. Luckily I was still in the room, because he came out head first, laughing. I was in front of Graeme's crib when Liam did it, but I managed to move and catch him when his head was about 4 inches from the hardwood floor. Thanks, senseis, for my training, which helped me develop quick reflexes and further develop some decent speed.

My little darling, who is normally a great sleeper, decided he would not settle down in his crib with me watching to make sure he fell asleep. If he had fallen asleep, I was then going to grab a ton a pillows just for the night since Graeme somehow fell asleep during Liam's show and I didn't want to wake him. Anyway, Liam thought it was great fun to jump on the bed and throw Snug, his stuffed dog, across the room. I finally gave up and took him to my room rather than take a chance on him breaking his neck or waking up G-man with mattress moving and the resulting running around the room, etc. Liam eventually fell asleep in my bed, just over 2 hours past his regular bedtime. That little kid somehow took up the whole king-sized bed. He moves more than I do as he sleeps. Of course, Sean is in China during this all of this fun.

Saturday I moved the mattresses to the floor across from one another and tried to wheel the cribs out of their room so I can convert them to toddler beds. Of course, they won't fit through the door, so I realize I'll have to work on them in the room, which has a skinny rectangular shape. Before I even start that, I get the matching toddler bed rails we special-ordered out of storage and open the boxes. These are short rails in the same color wood and design as the crib, so they'll keep the boys from falling out of the bed and look nice too. Though the wood color is right and the box has the correct name of the crib on it, something seems a little off. Internet research confirms that Babies R Us ordered rails with the right name, but the wrong style. I hadn't opened the box when I received them last year just before we moved because I didn't need them then. Yay! I realize I will now have several choices: leave the mattresses on the floor for a while and completely take the cribs apart to remove them; make the toddler day bed anyway by taking off the dropside rail and buying portable crib rails; or take the cribs apart and buy two beds that will somehow fit in this narrow room. After last night's shenanigans, which I'll remark on next, I'm opting for #2, since I finally located a store with portable crib rails in stock supposedly. I'll be taking the boys this afternoon to buy them once they get up from their nap.

Liam was super tired yesterday from being up Friday night, so he had no problem napping with his mattress on the floor. I put Graeme in the pack n play in the guest room for his nap as I always do. They slept 3 hours, so they caught up a little. Last night, though, they went crazy at bedtime. I read them their usual story which makes them drowsy, gave them hugs and kisses, and placed each one on his mattress. They immediately got up and started jumping around. Graeme ran from his mattress to Liam's and flopped down, then they both ran to Graeme's and flopped down, then they discovered they could reach their books and stuffed animals on the bookshelf, etc. Eventually I put the two mattresses together surrounded by pillows, and Graeme started to get really tired (an hour after the story). Liam, however, continued to act like someone gave him caffeine and a huge piece of cake. He would start climbing on Graeme, who was trying to calm down, and Graeme would pull his hair, which caused Liam to cry. Liam, in his loony state, could not match cause with effect and kept bothering Graeme. I tried leaving the room a couple of times, thinking maybe it was just a show for me, but both of them followed me. Finally, 2 hours and 15 minutes after their usual 7 pm bedtime, they went to sleep while I watched from near the door.

Graeme woke up at 6:15 this morning, and instead of yelling "mommy, mommy, mommy" from his crib, he just opened the door, ran into my room, and yelled it in my face. We just stayed home this morning because I knew they would be cranky. They were zombies today an hour before our usual lunchtime. I ended up feeding them at 11 and they were asleep by 11:40. Sounds like Graeme is awake now, so all for now. Think of me when you're sleeping snugly in your bed tonight!