Terrible is not the word...

So we are weeks away from two years old, and two terrific happy little people have exploded out of my babies. So far the only thing remotely terrible is the whining, which apparently subsides when I, specifically, am not around, making it at least a good reason to go back to work.
Now if the phrase were Mischievous Twos, Manipulative Twos, Train & Truck-obsessed Twos, or Very Vocal Twos, that I could relate to. But get back to me in a few months.

Speaking of vocal, I am pretty sure we are no longer even a little behind, at least according to those checklists. Adjectives and prepositions are starting to appear; Vanh uses the number two correctly and Max can identify yellow and blue. As for their interests - here is Vanh's goodnight list from a few evenings ago:
'night Dora
'night Elmo
'night cars
'night trains
'night trucks
'night monster trucks
'night Dolly
'night Taffy
'night Neow

Somehow (ahem) they saw a video of monster trucks driving over other cars and smashing and stuff and now they think monster trucks are the be all end all of existence.

When I asked them what they wanted to wear this morning they both said, "trains." And they were very very insistent about this, nevermind they only have one item of clothing between them with a train on it. Luckily I found a onesie with three animals in a row and convinced Vanh it was an "animal train". I wonder if I could find something with monster trucks on it, make that two somethings...

Is it just me?

If you've heard me talk about my kids you know I'm not one to brag about their accomplishments. It's not that I have any restraint, it's just that they generally meet their milestones a little later than other babies we know, and they aren't particularly athletic/ musical/ social/ artistic/ for their age, so I have nothing to brag about. Except - I have to admit that I think they are exceptionally cute. Maybe not the cutest children in the world(I am trying to step out of Mommy mode here) but definitely well above average. Daddy says this is just what all parents think about their own, and I know what he means, of course they are the most beautiful things I have ever seen, but I still think they are objectively cute beyond normal. I've had more than one conversation with a mom who seems to honestly, sincerely think that her average looking child is particularly adorable, so I have to concede that I too may have fallen viction to this "mommy blindness".
But come on. Look at them.






PS And, is there anyone who still thinks they are identical? They are looking very different these days - the best way I can describe it is that Vanh looks older and pointier. (The vote stopped working, but it was at 78% for identical)

23 months old

Remember how cute they were in these last May? (10 months old)


They liked their "denim" diapers so much they refused to put their shorts back on

Back to work blues

Although I am not really back to work until September, I'm officially back for the last day of school (without students) on June 28th. And I should spend August both setting up my new class and gradually weaning myself away - but I'm not making any promises. Right now I'm stuck on what to say when asked if I'm ready to go back to work. I'm stuck because I like to focus on the positive in situations I can't change, and I can't think of anything positive to say. Why would I want to go back to work? To spend time teaching (and learning from) children? Like a home daycare? To hang out in the positive atmosphere of an elementary school with a variety of like-minded adults? Like a daily playgroup? Yes I love my job and the wonderful people I work with, the trouble is I am already doing it, and with the people I love most in the world at my side. I get all the fulfillment I need, and the only reason for working is financial, but even then - our lifestyle won't be changing, just the fact that we will no longer be incurring debt. It's not like my going back to work will give us more money to spend, so there's not even that to look forward to. About the best I can think of to say is that I expect, with a lot of effort and support, I may not slide into a clinical depression. Which is not really what people, especially co-workers, want to hear when they ask, "So, are you looking forward to going back to work?"

So if you don't mind, I will stay in denial just a little longer, and I will try to write more little posts about our life that show why it is harder every day to leave.

Ahhhh!

Don't touch him!

It was a fun weekend with an old and dear friend from childhood, but also memorable for the picture it paints of the boys as they approach their second birthday.

On Saturday we went to visit another old friend, who was looking forward to seeing the boys as well as us. An experienced Mom, she greeted them at their level with invitations to play. Unfortunately she did too good a job at relating - they instantly became suspicious that she was a NURSE. (The same thing happened when we went to visit the staff at my school.) The boys have had a lot of encounters with people in the medical profession specifically trained to deal with children, really good, sincere, caring people, but far too many encounters, and now they have a bit of a phobia. The best thing to do when meeting them for the first time is to ignore them. Once they decide you are a NURSE,well, there is going to be a lot of screaming and crying, that's for sure. Trying to distract them doesn't work either; remember, they have been exposed to professionals. Luckily they just happened to have two sets of the boys' most favouite toy in the world.


On Sunday my parents were taking them for the afternoon, and we heard about a little parade with marching bands right down the street in the morning. We thought we could sit on a patio to wait for the parade. Things looked positive, but on the way in Max's finger got caught between the wagon and the entrance post, and he howled bloody murder. Things would have been okay - he wasn't actually hurt - but a lady who saw what happened (I was blithely pulling the wagon) leaned in to comfort him - "Don't touch him!" I screamed, but it was too late, he was already into his "A kind stranger is touching me she must be a NURSE!!!!" panic attack. Which set Vanh off too of course; he knows if there is a NURSE for Max, there will be one for Vanh not far behind. Sigh. Does anyone else find themselves warning people not to touch their children, even (especially) if they're upset and need comforting?
I managed to settle them down by taking the lids off of their sippy cups and letting them drink "like big boys" - until of course they spilled them, so then they were crying, wet, AND thirsty... A hot dog bought us some more time, and they were fascinated by the parade.



By the time we dragged them back up the hill (Vanh decided he didn't want to ride in the wagon, so we all had to walk at his speed) my parents were waiting, and I stuffed them into the car, wet, cranky, and sobbing again (Just a note: They were laughing 2 minutes away from my house and had a lovely afternoon).
Free! Fianlly free! No more deep-frier screams at nothing! No more interruptions! Yeah!

So why did I miss them like crazy for the rest of the day?!!

Just a little June

This is the splash pad at the Plant Bath. It's getting tricky to play here now that the boys have discovered how fast Mommy moves when they run towards Preston Street...

Double Date