Ian had a successful at-home haircut! Scott did a great job and Ian didn't freak out one bit. I think the one at the kids salon last time helped somehow. But I am glad he's decided he's okay with the free ones too.
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Ian was coloring today while absent-mindedly singing the Cougar Fight Song quietly to himself. He whispered "Ra ra ra ra ra, goooo...." and trailed off apparently lost in another thought. From across the room, Joseph looked up and said "Cougars!" This is Joseph's first demonstration of BYU loyalty. I couldn't be happier!
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Joseph repeats all kinds of words lately. Today he mimicked Ian when Ian said "yellow" over their morning snack. Then Ian said "Joseph, say yellow again" Joseph obeyed. Ian said "Joseph, say football." Joseph obeyed. Ian said "Joseph, say microwave." Joseph looked at him with a puzzled expression. I suggested Ian give Joseph an easier word. Ian said "Joseph, say smoke detector. Smoke. De.Tec.Tor. It's not hard Joseph, a smoke detector is just right there!" and he pointed to one on the ceiling.
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I couldn't find my cell phone and asked the boys where it was. Calmly, Ian responded, "I don't know. I guess it's gone forever. Oh well."
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Joseph had wandered out of the room, so I asked Ian, "Where did Joseph go?" Ian's reply, "I don't know, probably to Mars."
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"One, two, three, seeky!" has become Ian and Joseph's favorite game. Ian invented it and it consists of saying "one, two, three, SEEKY!" and then running down the hall and into a bedroom where they throw themselves on the floor, squeal, stand up and do it again. All while trailing the fuzzy yellow belt to my bathrobe behind them.
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We made Valentine cookies and the boys devoured at least four cookies each during the frosting process. Joseph kept saying "Ummy, ummy." (Yummy)
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While listening to the radio in the car Ian declared, "I don't like this song. Her voice sounds so whiny." To which Joseph replied, "Uh uh." and shook his head. This began a back and forth of "Yes shes does" "Uh uh" "No, she does sound whiny!" "Uh-uh" . It was really entertaining from the front seat, mostly because both boys were really tired and were not shouting, but were saying this in sleepy voices with long pauses between disagreements.
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I often ask "Who wants to take a bath/have a snack/etc, to which Ian replies "I do!" Joseph has started saying it too, but when he says it, it sounds more like a Southern Belle is saying it: "Ahhh due....". Joseph will start saying "I do" when he sees or hears anything he's interested in.
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We went to preschool a few weeks ago without Ian's Valentines. I dropped him off and headed home to grab them and then interrupted his preschool lesson when I came back. I figured I may as well take him on one last trip to the toilet while I was there. While in the bathroom, Ian looked me in the eye and said with such sweet sincerity, "I am so happy that you came back again, Mommy." Then he trotted back to his 'square' and listened to the lesson.
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Ian began climbing out of his crib about two weeks ago. For the most part, this is only problematic in the mornings because he now springs out of bed at first light to start enjoying the day -- usually he begins by quietly playing in the loft, but several times last week he also raided the fridge and ate green jello and leftover pink frosting with a spoon. And last Sunday morning poop was smeared on the carpet and some select toys. And one morning he devoured half of a chocolate cake we'd left covered on the counter.
Ian began climbing out of his crib about two weeks ago. For the most part, this is only problematic in the mornings because he now springs out of bed at first light to start enjoying the day -- usually he begins by quietly playing in the loft, but several times last week he also raided the fridge and ate green jello and leftover pink frosting with a spoon. And last Sunday morning poop was smeared on the carpet and some select toys. And one morning he devoured half of a chocolate cake we'd left covered on the counter.
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Last night I around midnight I thought I heard shuffling feet outside our bedroom door. After several minutes of drifting in and out of sleep I decided I would go check it out. I stared into the dark loft for several seconds, but it wasn't until I nearly stumbled on Ian that I could finally see his small form curled up in "child's pose" on the car rug. Of course he was also clutching his bunny.When I asked him this morning why he went to sleep in the loft he told me the rain was too loud in his room.
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Ian has begun fibbing. When he hurts Joseph and I ask Ian what happened and why Joseph is crying, he now invariably answers "Joseph got an ouchie by himself." While I did the dishes the other day the boys colored chalk outside. When I heard Joseph screaming, I as calmly as I could asked Ian what happened. He answered in the usual way. But the physical evidence was contrary to his statement: Joseph was no longer upset and was blissfully scribbling chalk on the fence, but his face, the top of his head and down his back was graffitied with pastel chalk.
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At preschool the teacher held a kickoff for the Olympics and the kids took turns running with the torch and receiving gold medals. Each child was asked what they wanted to be when they grew up. Ian replied "A man". His classmates responses: A basketball, a ballerina, and Superboy.
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Somehow 'drip' (as in "Joseph! Don't let your milk drip out of your sippy cup!") became Joseph's universal word for broken, fallen over, spilled, or "something is wrong here".
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The boys received helium-filled balloon last weekend, and it was Joseph's very first balloon. When it was tied to his wrist he seemed to think he needed to hold his wrist up high. He called it "A-moon" and chattered about it constantly. Once it began to deflate and no longer floated, he sat on it and bounced. Yesterday morning when we came down to breakfast, a long green balloon string was hanging out of the trash can. Joseph looked concerned, and went immediately to the trash and began to unearth the "a-moon" carcass. He was devastated! When he saw that it was flat, he kept repeating "Dripped, dripped" in such a sad voice.