Five Year Olds

April Fools! For my hilarious prank today, I'm pretending like I'm a real blogger again.
Because, you guys, a whole month has gone by since I took these pictures- documenting that my children are now five years old.
Now that they're five, I've instructed them to start telling people that they're in Kindergarten. I'm so great at home schooling. Ha! (Another hilarious prank.)
How many pictures of Grey and Micah can I post, wherein they are looking straight at the camera and smiling with their pointy teeth, sparkly blue eyes and perfect, yellow-white hair, and their arms are around each other and they look too cute to be real? AS MANY AS I WANT, OKAY?
That's a mother's right! I know they all look exactly the same- (and in fact, even my children look the same) but these are the cutest pictures that I've ever seen and I love them.
My wittle babies are all growed up. (Crying emoji! Because I know longer know how to even write without tiny facial expressions.)

Grey and Micah are both so creative, imaginative, and wacky- more than any other kids I know. They play so well together and spend the majority of their time playing house, having adventures, digging in the garden, or snuggling together. But always together. They both spend so much time trying to make each other laugh, and trying to help or comfort each other. Lately they've been playing "Winter in the Big Woods," in which they build a fort to be their cabin, and then they hunt wild animals, plant a garden, milk their cows and "eat lots of meat, because thats the only food you can get in the winter."

We've read many chapter books out loud together- and their favorites this year have been The Boxcar Children, Peter Pan, Charlotte's Web, and The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. They liked Robin Hood, but the language was tricky- more than anything it opened their imagination to games like "Merry Men in the Green Wood." (They like to title their games.)

They love August, but want him to be abel to keep up in everything they do. They usually assign him a silent role in their games, like R2D2, a baby bear, an unhatched egg, etc. 

Grey, at five is imaginative and funny- he is constantly telling us stories, doing impersonations and giving inanimate objects names. He's so thoughtful and spends a lot of his time zoned out or by himself, he'll get lost in his own world and I'll find him sitting in the garden talking to himself and laughing, and then a few minutes later he'll tell me "I wish I were a chicken, so they'd let me join their flock." He's always legitimately surprised and flattered when I say that I love him more than anything in the world. He loves to read and tries SO hard to understand decoding, and listens the best when we read aloud. He has an eye for beauty and constantly compliments the people around him. Every single day, he tells me some variation of "You look beautifuller than ever, today."

He's always the first to spot flowers or notice the sunset and he tells me that it touches his heart and makes him feel happy. He's determined to be GOOD and often asks about or explains pretty deep spiritual and scriptural truths, and tells me that he can feel the Holy Ghost helping him make good choices. 

He has been having nightmares lately, but more often than not- they begin before he's even asleep. He tiptoes out of his room a few times a night and tells me "I had a scary thought," usually it's about monsters, natural disasters, and/or his family disappearing. He gets scared VERY easily, and even cries during shows like Curious George, because he's afraid George will get in trouble for causing mischief. He's very shy and sensitive- something that's been difficult for me to get used to. I'm afraid I often embarrass him by drawing attention or laughter towards him - something Micah and I would both like! But which leave Grey feeling humiliated and shy. 

He's really into Robin Hood (or Will Scarlet especially- as you can tell by his cloak- the only thing he wanted for his birthday.), Princess Leia, and birds and owls. He and Micah play "Birds" all the time, and build lots of forts and nests. Grey keeps his stuffed owl Katie with him at all times, and will cry that she is so scared, hurt, messy, can't sleep, etc -without him. I heard him tell Micah "She's very easy to take care of, because she doesn't even poop." Then he carefully covered her ears and whispered, "She's only stuffed with fluff, but she thinks she's real."

He is my oldest and my gentlest, the one I think will grow up and be a poet, my sweet five year old: Grey.

Micah is such a theatrical, passionate boy. He's so much like me! He wants to have everyone's attention and love, he wants to be admired and hilarious, and always surrounded by lots of friends. He directs their play (without being OVERLY bossy- I think) because he's so imaginative and adventurous and because he's such a natural leader. He always has fun ideas and will assign everyone in their group roles, and gets heartbroken very easily if he feels that someone is not including him or wishes he wouldn't play with them. 

When it's just the two of us- he showers me with so much love and compliments, hugs and kisses, and wants to be touching, hand holding, tickling or snuggling all the time. He asks to "just snuggle together" all the time, and if I won't snuggle, he'll try to snuggle August instead. He loves to make August laugh and will try to pick him up and carry him around so that August will stay with him all day. 

He has a quick temper, but he's also quick to forgive and to help when people are hurt or sad. He is SO helpful around the house, and is constantly asking "Am I being very useful? How can I serve you?" 

He has a very good grasp on right and wrong, and will FIGHT if you contradict him (Gryffindor much? ) He wants to be making good choices all the time- and if you point out that he did something rude or unkind, he gets very upset and defensive, but usually tries to fix it right away too. When ever people don't do what he wants them to do, he threatens them "You're going to make Jesus mad!" or "You're choosing Satan's side!" which is fairly terrible and also funny! Because he thinks that's the worst imaginable insult and people are sure to change their ways and do what he tells them if he says that. 

He loves to talk about the gospel and about choosing to act like people from the scriptures. But he's also sort of tricky and wants to walk the line whenever he's not sure if somethings really bad or not. He found the bag of Easter toys and candy before I gave them out, and was afraid to admit that he'd gone through it. Instead he told me, "I don't know. I think I looked a little, because August wanted to see- but I don't remember what was in there."

He has picked up reading SO quickly and often reads things off of signs or books, even though we haven't been doing school or practicing very much. 

He always wants to pretend to be a hero from a story(while Grey is much more content as the sidekick.) He is Robin Hood, Batman, Peter Pan, Luke Skywalker, and Frodo always, and so he also always has his cloak on. 

My middle child, my mini-me. My lover and fighter and knight-in-shining armor: Micah. 

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My Biggest Brothers

This morning, the boys and I went to visit Travis at work. He recently moved into a new office, and (as always prefaces their arrival in a new office) the entire place has been painted with chalkboard paint. It was practically a studio! So I stuck the boys in a corner and promised them candy corn pumpkins if they posed for a couple pictures. It's getting really, really difficult to get good pictures of them - especially together! I guess I just gotta get used to that- and they gotta get used to having the camera in their faces for the rest of their lives!

I love these boys, brothers, and best friends. I love that when I ask them to take a picture together, they think that I want them to wrestle and bear hug. It may not turn out as the best shot- but I'll take it. I love their love. 

Three and a Half

Once upon a time, I took pictures of Grey and Micah every month they grew older. They were babies, it was cold out, and I was an inexperienced photographer- so almost every month, they were lying in their pjs on my bed in the morning. The lighting wasn't very good. Their hair was crazy.
But I love those pictures.
This morning I realized that it was the boys' half birthday, and decided that I wanted some pictures. As I tried to think of a good way to trick them into a photoshoot- they were busy wrestling on my bed in their coordinating pajamas.
My usual update will have to come later. I'm actually pretty busy with a house full of wild boys (it feels that way, at least).

And, as it turns out: I wanted to share some photos of the boys when they were babies...

Newborns.


Six months old.


One year old.

 18 months. // Two years old.

 Two and a half (one year ago)

 Three years old.


 And three and a half.

Time flies when you're having fun...

"I'm just kidding you."

"Please look at me so I can take a picture of you!"

"Oh no! Your eyes are closed! Open your eyes up and smile!"

"Oh, Mom. I'm just kidding you."

Identical

The funny thing about the boys is, 99% of the time, they don't look alike.
I mean, sure. They look alike. But they don't look the same. Strangers or people we see infrequently may have difficultly remembering which features belong to which boy.
(Okay, one of them is thinner, with more delicate features and longer hair. One has a wider smile and a squarer face - but which one is which?)
But rarely do people think they look the same. In fact, when I'm out with the boys, people often ask if the boys are fraternal (or even if they're twins) and are surprised by my answer. (Although, they also say things like, "What do you mean they're identical? They have different haircuts!)

And the more you get to know the boys, their different voices and the way they move, walk, sit, and smile- the less alike they seem. You don't need them to have different haircuts to know who is who.

And then, every once and a while, they look exactly the same. I do a double take, or call out, "Hey!" so they turn and say, "What, Mom?" and I suddenly know who they are.
It's weird and disorienting, because I can honestly say, They do not look the same to me at all, but sometimes I can't tell them apart.
That doesn't quite make sense, does it?

Last week, I took some pictures of the boys, which you've already seen on the Photo a Day. They were taken in different light, locations, different days, different expressions, different boys.
But when I put them next to each other, I was surprised by how similar they looked in them.
They looked like twins.
Identical twins.

Oh my gosh, I love these boys. When I was pregnant the first time, people would often say, "Oh, I wonder what your babies will look like!"
And so far - all my babies look the same.
They have baldy heads and crinkly blue eyes. They have fair skin and long, knobby limbs. They have jack-o-lantern teeth and little button noses.
So when I picture this new baby, I picture my other babies.
But, really, I wonder what this baby will look like. Will he (she?) look like my others? Or have her (or his?) brothers' coloring, or be dark eyed and olive skinned like me?
Oh baby. I can't stop thinking 'bout you.
What will you look like?

Little Talkers

The boys have developed all these funny new quirks when speaking. They haven't quite figured out sentence structures, but they're trying really hard.

Lots of their current sentences are phrased like this: "I did it, the object."

So they say, "I shut it, the door." Or "I want it, the car." "I see it, the Digger!"

Speaking of Diggers, Micah is OBSESSED. Most machinery, construction equipment, and vehicles get him excited ("Dumptruck! Crane! Cement mixer! Fire Engine! Garbage Truck!") but nothing quite like Diggers. He'll shout "Digger! Digger! Digger! Oh, Daddy, Digger! Digger, Daddy!" for five minutes after we see an excavator.

All it takes to stop a full blown tantrum are the words, "Look, a digger!"



There is a park by our house with lots of dump trucks, diggers, and shovels in the sandbox. Micah asked to go to the "Digger Park" every single day that we were in California and Nevada. He asked about the digger park more than he asked about the return of his father!
Grey likes diggers, but doesn't see what the big deal is. He likes to see them and point them out, he likes to play with toy-diggers, but he doesn't care as much as Micah.

Grey is a little better at figuring out how to construct sentences and use words together than Micah. But Micah is quick to repeat everything his brother says, and add "Too" at the end.
So if Grey says, "Mama, watch me!"
Micah says, "Watch me, too!"
And if Grey says, "I hear it, the garbage truck!"
Micah chimes in, "I hear it, the garbage truck, too!"
It's funniest though, when Micah just wants to be acknowledged for the same thing, but the sentence doesn't quite make sense.
When watching Lion King, Grey said "Daddy Lion Fall!"
And Micah said "Daddy Lion Fall, too!"
Or when Grey asks, "Where Daddy?"
Micah asks,"Where Daddy, too?"

Grey also is also getting pretty good at his numbers.
Okay.  He doesn't know what they mean, nor can he list them in succession: but he can name all of them from 1-10.
He usually counts in patterns:
2-3-4-3! or 8-7-8! or 5-6-5-6!
Always 2-4 numbers, and always exclaimed. Since we like to count, 1-2-3, Jump! He phrases all counting like it's a launch. And he usually does launch himself after counting.

They've also gotten really bossy. My favorite of their commands regard where they want me or their brother to be. They yell, "Hey, get BACK HERE!" (Wonder where they heard that line?)

And "Stay there, Brother!" Or, my favorite: "Get back in house, NOW!"

Um, okay. Who made you the king?

A few days ago, Micah threw a toy and was in time-out. A few minutes later, I crouched down and said, "Micah, you cannot throw your toys," and over my shoulder Grey said,
"Didah, not tro toys."
"Go away, Grey," I said. "You're not responsible for your brother."
I turned back to Micah, "Okay?"
After a moments pause, Grey said, "Otay, Didah? No tro?"
Ug, little boy. He thinks he's the mama. 

Right now, as I ignore them and write this post, they're trying to turn on a movie.

Grey was using the Wiimote to try to start a DVD.

"We watching moody, Mom," said Micah.

"Sure, if you can get it to work," I said. (Thinking that they couldn't figure it out.)

Grey turned and gave me a squinty eye, then ran to the DVD player and pushed a button.

"Ha, Mom! Ha! I did it!"

But the DVD ejected.

Grey didn't notice until he'd already returned to the couch.

"Argh!" He grumbled and climbed off the couch, "I do it, Didah. Wait."

"Mama do it, now," said Micah (Didah).

"No, Grey do it, otay?"

"Mama do it, moody."

"Grey do it, moody! Ha! I did it! Watch me, Mom! I did it! "

If you're wondering what movie they're watching, Micah calls it "Rotting Tood" and Grey calls it, "Bodding Hoob!"

(Figure it out?)

I should take them outside and play. But my house is messy, it's like 100 degrees out, and I did say they could watch it if they turned it on themselves...

Conversations with Two-Year Olds

Over the last months, Grey and Micah have gotten a handle on words.
They can name items, request food, and answer basic questions like "Do you want a sandwich?"
It's been pretty awesome.
But in the last few weeks they've moved on. They aren't just stringing together words, they're having conversations.
Just today, we had so many little moments of conversation that couldn't have happened even a week ago.

We were sitting outside, and Grey got up and started walking towards home.
"Hey Grey!" yelled Micah, "Where going?"
"In house, Micah!"

Or when Micah called to his brother from another room, and Grey yelled, "Coming, brother!"

This morning the soundtrack from Brother's Bloom was playing, and Grey noticed it. He cocked his head to one side and closed his eyes to listen to it. "Oh, music," he said. "Pretty!"

Micah couldn't find the Trucks book he'd been reading all morning.
"Mama, Truck Book?" he asked.
"I don't know where it is," I said. "Do you remember? I'll go check for it."
After a moment of thought he said, "Book walk. Stroller."  He was right. He left it in the stroller after his walk.

A bit after that, Micah pulled on his rain boots, put his flashlight and sippy cup in his bucket and slung it over his arm, and grabbed a ski pole to use as a walking stick.
"Bye, Mama. Love you," he said. Then he opened the front door and walked out.
"Wait! Where are you going?" I asked, pulling the door back open.
He shrugged, "Out." Then waved again, "Bye Mom. Bye Grey."



My favorite little sentences are ones that start with I. Like, I want, I see, I have, etc.
The other day we biked by a river and a cool breeze hit the boys and me.
"Oh, the water makes the air cold!" said Travis. "Can you feel it?"
After a moment of thought, Micah said, "I feel it, Daddy."

They've also started yelling "I did it!" after they accomplish anything. Grey climbed the little rock wall at the park, and when he clambered over the top on to the playground, he jumped in the air and pumped his little fist. "I did it! I did it!" he yelled, "Great! Great! GREAT!"



Yesterday on FaceTime with my brother, Grey said, "Grey in kitchen," which was the first time I'd heard him describe where he was and the first time I'd heard kitchen.

It's just so cool to hear them, not only understand us, but form thoughts of their own. They have ideas and they want to express them.
They've played pretend a bit in the past, but I think this new understanding of language is increasing their creativity as well. They have started pretending to make lots of different "food" (of dirt, or fabric scraps, or soapy water) and want us to "eat it." They tell each other jokes (I mean, I assume they're telling jokes I don't get the punch line of.) And they've started making and requesting that I make goofy faces or dance like a crazy person a lot. And I think all of it is connected. All their silliness, creativity, and language are bundled up together.
And oh, how I love it.


** As a side note: Have you ever seen little boys with as many goose eggs right in the center of their foreheads as my children? I think the reasons for this are many:
1. They usually fall when they are running, not toppling off things, so it's always right in the middle of their face.
2. They are little hoarders and almost always have their hands clenched around some precious thing that they will not drop to catch themselves. Thus, they catch themselves on their faces.
3. My children are kind of maniacs. There is no "Slow Mode" so they run until they crash into something, then they cry, then they do it again.
4. Maybe it's their complexion that makes bruises show up so much? Anyway. Grey got that nice bump racing down the sidewalk. Just a day after he ran so hard that he had to stop and throw up his dinner. And two days after he ran so hard that he had an asthma attack. Seriously, kid. Sometimes it's okay to just walk. 

Sleepy Baby Bears

Grey and Micah have never insisted on having their beds full of their favorite toys or stuffed animals.
In fact, I've been known to try to force stuffed animals into their beds.
("Oh, look at how cuddly this puppy is! He just wants to snuggle up and give you kisses. Do you want him to sleep with you and keep you warm?")
And then I hear the soft thud of a little cotton puppy hit the bedroom door as I leave... they're not interested.

Sometimes they insist on bring a little car to bed with them, but only if they're playing with it right before they have to climb into their cribs.
Because, oh yeah, did I mention? They're still in their cribs!
They love their cribs. They want to sleep in their cribs forever. They know how to climb in and out, but it's pretty hard, and they usually fall and hit their heads - so they just don't.
Not ever.

Sometimes they bring books to bed with them, but I had to reinstate the "Only board books in bed" rule this week, since Micah has started draining his sippy cup of milk, then popping off the lid, and filling his now damp and stinky cup with pages torn out from his books. Then he puts the lid back on, and when I come in to get him after his nap, he pretends to drink from his book-cup.
He thinks it's hilarious.
I also think it's hilarious.
But mostly, it annoys me - Books aren't free, you clever little trickster. 
The boys each have a favorite book to take to bed. They're not their favorite books to have us read to them, so I assume that what they really love are the pictures.
Grey's favorite book is called Far Far Away. It's about a pig who wants to run away from home, but decides to stay when his mom makes cake.  Grey seriously loves it, but that is because he loves to make cake. (He's also gotten really into looking at pictures of food in cookbooks.)
On the page where the mama pig is mixing ingredients, Grey lists off everything pictured.
"Budda, exs, plower, nolk, doe-co-lay, sucer, COOK CAKE!"
(Oh, you can't translate my boy's gibberish? Butter, eggs, flour, milk, chocolate, sugar. Come on, people.)
Micah's favorite book is called Cheer Up, Mouse. It's about a sad little mouse whose friends are trying to make him feel better. (You can click the link to the right to watch the trailer for it. My kids make me watch it every day. Our friend Jed wrote the book, but that's not why Micah loves it.) Micah likes to name all the animals in the book, and at the end when Mouse is cheered up by a hug (spoiler!), he likes to hug the book to his chest as hard as he can and say "HUG MICAH!"
So. Pretty adorable.

But lest you think that their beds just have a book, a boy, and a car in them...

They are obsessed with "pow-lows" and "kikis."
(Pillows and blankies, guys. Keep up.)

They each have 5 (FIVE) pillows in their beds, and 3 blankets, although they often insist on more.
In fact, almost daily, they sneakily collect pillows from MY bed, and put them into their cribs. Then at bedtime, "Oh, what's that?! Geez, Mom. How did those get in here? DON'T TAKE THEM, I'LL KILL YOU!"
And sometimes they gather extra quilts and push them in through the bars into their beds.
What do they do with all their excessive bedding?

Well, duh. Like the little animals they are: they build a little nest/burrow to sleep in. They pile up all the pillows and blankets around themselves and then snuggle down into it in a little ball. They sleep with blankets bunched up under them, and pull pillows up over themselves. (They seem confused about the purpose of each item in their bed.)

And if that wasn't enough, they then have me drape the thick dark quilts I made over their cribs, so they are essentially in a little cave. They will not sleep in their beds, unless their beds are "pourts."
(Forts.)

They just lie, cuddled up in their caves, under piles of bedding, looking at pictures of baby animals and drinking cups of milk.
(P.S. Their new favorite weird insistance is that all milk be served in an orange or yellow cup. If I dare to give them milk in, say, a red cup - it is thrown bodily at me while they scream "NOLK! LELLOW!")
Okay, crazy people. You can have your milk in a yellow cup. You can sleep in a little nest. In a little cave. In the warmest, snuggliest room in the house.
Oh, did I make you feel sleepy and cuddly? Sorry, folks.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday - My boys

When Travis Travels

Last week, Travis went out of town.
And unlike past trips, when the boys were just sad and clingy the whole time, this time after a day of his absence, they were angry.
And the person they were angry at was me.

They were so frustrated and mad that I had allowed Travis to leave, that all day long was Mom-Punishment-Time.
If we were with other people, they were temporarily distracted, but the moment it was just us: meltdown time.
Screaming, flailing, kicking, punching. They slapped me in the face, grabbed handfuls of my neck with their fingernails and pulled off pieces of my skin, they grabbed objects with heft and swung them at my head.
And all the while they screamed. SO MUCH SCREAMING.
I half-carried, half-dragged these shrieking, biting, thrashing children back to the car from the park, and unable to completely contain myself, definitely screamed a bit myself, including things like,  "IF YOU PUNCH ME AGAIN YOU WILL SERIOUSLY RERET IT!"
After another 15 minutes of wrestling them into the car (and getting a gouge on my face that drew blood from their fingernails). We finally made it home.
I left the car widows down, so our neighbors could hear the shrieking of my banshees.
We got out of the car, the boys broke from my hold so they could lie face down in the middle of the hot street and continue screaming.
I carried our bags in and then the boys one at a time, lying them down in the same position on the floor so they could continue their screams uninterrupted.
Every once and a while, someone would scream a word, like "MILK" and to be helpful (and possibly shut the demons up), I would fetch a milk in their favorite cup.
Then they would tear the lid off and chuck their sippy cup at me with all the strength they could muster.
Why is dealing with 15 little tantrums a day so much easier than dealing with two hour-long tantrums a day?

I thought it was going to be so much easier to be home alone with the boys for a week now than it was when they were babies.
I mean, they don't get up in the night (oh, they do when Travis is gone. They wake up to cry, "Daddy! Daddy!") and they are easy to feed (False: they went on a hunger strike) and they no longer insist on being held all day every day (oh, wrong again. And now combined they make up half my body weight. It stinks to hold them both.)

I love newborns so much. I love their hot, heavy weight on my chest. I love the way you have to work for those smiles, so they're unbelievably precious. I even love that pathetic mewling cry that isn't manipulative or angry, just sad or hungry or scared.
But newborns are hard, especially when there are two of them.

Our days have gotten shorter and easier in almost every way as the boys have gotten older. They're easy to feed (I don't need to sit for forty minutes with a baby on each breast six times a day, nor do I need to buy and measure and warm formula and aren't there any clean bottles?). Now I can just hand them each a sandwich and an applesauce. Done.
They're easier to entertain (no more constant bouncing, singing, jingling, and shaking for an hour in the backseat.) Now I just hand them each an iPhone.
They're easier to put to bed (I haven't bounced a screaming baby in a dark bathroom while counting to a thousand in over a year). All I have to do now is put the boys in bed, half-heartedly sing them a lullaby, and give them each a few kisses through the bars of the crib.

But there is one thing that is so much harder about toddlers, and it is this: They are smarter. They are more aware. And they have opinions about what's happening.
And when things aren't going the way they'd like, they put up a fight.

Oh my gosh. Welcome home Travis. Never leave us again.

Two Years

A lot can happen in two years. 

Seriously. A lot. 

Every few months, I feel like the boys make huge leaps ahead in their growth. 

I can handle and survive consistant growing, but those surprising grown-up moments tend to hit me hard. Looking through these pictures, I can see exactly where each growth spurt fell. 

There was one here, between four months and five months:

And here, between 7 and 8 months:

Here, between 11 months and a year:

And then, suddenly, the hugest leap of all, between 16 and 17 months:

And again. Right now. I feel like they're little people to a whole new extent. They don't really look that much taller and older, but they do things that shock me. Like, Micah: eating a hotdog in it's bun. Eating it like a real person! I saw his life flash before my eyes, suddenly he was a second-grader at a baseball game.
Or Grey murmuring under his breath, "Coat, hot." Then unzipping his coat himself and taking it off. I mean... are you a 12 year old or something?

Oh my, how time flies.