baby's toys

Don't get your hopes up--baby's not here yet. But I had to record this conversation I had this afternoon with Sean. He was sitting on my lap and had pulled my shirt up and we were watching the baby wiggle all over my belly and the following conversation ensued:

S: Mommy, what he doing in there?
M: He's wiggling and squirming all over.
S: Why he wigglin' and squirmin' all over?
M: Well, why do you and Ben wiggle and squirm?
S (with eyes big and round): Mommy, this belly has toys in it?

I love that kid. He's such a great big brother already and he can't wait to be one again. Soon, hopefully, very very soon.

puff, puff, choo, choo...off we go!

Sean's always--even as a baby--been the type of kid who wouldn't meet any kind of developmental milestone until he knew he could do it quite well. We have ridiculous amounts of video footage of him almost rolling over--he'd roll up onto one side, and then go back to lying on his back. Over and over and over again. So the first time he actually finally did roll, he rolled and rolled and rolled clear across the room. The same type of thing happened with eating and walking and talking. And we can't even think about persuading or coercing him into partially achieving anything--he'll do it on his own when he's good and ready, and not a moment before. Can we say "independent perfectionist"? I wonder where he gets it from?

So, given all that, I knew potty training the child would be quite the experience. We started talking to him several months ago about all the ins and outs of what going on the potty "like a big boy" entailed, since we knew we'd need a big jump start before we actually started training, but anytime we'd bring it up he'd firmly say that he wanted to wear diapers. And I have to admit, I was somewhat afraid that I might have seriously delayed any hope of readiness by unintentionally terrifying the poor kid before we'd even had a chance to start. One night somewhere in the middle of all of this gearing-up-for-the-big-event talk, I was helping him get undressed for a bath, and in my tired, absent-minded, mommy-brain state, I went to put him in the tub, but out of my mouth came, "Okay, Sean, time to go in the potty." Not "on the potty" (which at least would have been a reasonable statement) or "in the tub" (which is what I meant). No, I had to say "in the potty." Oh, the terror that leapt into his eyes. And the kicking of the legs and the thrashing of the arms and the crying and wailing of "NO, MOMMY, NO! I DON'T WANNA GO IN THE POTTY! NO, MOMMY, NO!" I had him halfway into the bathtub before I realized exactly what I'd said and, therefore, what his problem was, at which point instead of apologizing like any decent parent would have done, I started laughing--uncontrollably laughing--at the idea that I had actually uttered those words, but especially at the idea that Sean knew in his heart of hearts that what I had said was exactly what I was doing. Cruel, I know, but you have to admit that it is mildly funny.

Anyhow, despite the potential setback from that little episode, we decided about three months ago to take the plunge (no pun intended)--bought all the necessary "equipment," had a final little chat, and went with it. That lasted all of, oh, maybe a day. He quickly informed me that he was a big boy, but he wanted to go potty in his diapers.

We tried again about a month later with pretty much the same result. He knew he was a big boy and didn't need "big boy underwear" to confirm that fact (I definitely can't complain about his self-esteem). So, instead of trying to constantly realign a derailing potty train, we just parked it at the station for a while until the little conductor got all of his issues worked out. I kept talking to him about using the potty every now and then, with still no interest on his part, and hoping that one day soon he would come around.

And just last week he finally did. I had bought a new potty chair for him early last week (because the first one we got was ridiculously small--who do they think could go in a hole the size of an orange? C'mon.), and told him to tell me when he was ready to start using it (thinking the whole time that maybe it would still be big enough for him as a teenager). Three days later, as I was changing his diaper, he told me he wanted to wear his big boy underwear. I knew I must have heard him incorrectly, or he had forgotten what all went along with wearing that, so I quickly and thoroughly went through everything that he would have to do if he did, in fact, wear his underwear. And lo and behold, he was okay with it.

We're now on day 6 and he's doing quite well. Still having accidents every now and then, still will only pee in the toilet, but we're getting there. And he's finally on board. Now I just have to prepare myself for another derailment when the baby comes. But I think he at least knows by now that mommy will only put him on the potty and not in it.

coming into his own

Sean recently has been unveiling more and more of his little personality, and it's hilarious. Yesterday, as I was changing his diaper, he made up this song:

"I love to sit in my STINKYYYY DIAPERRR! I love to sit in my STINKYYYY DIAPERRR! I love to sit in my stinky DIAPERRRRRRRRRR!"

Hmmm...and I wonder why pottytraining wasn't going so well?

And a few nights ago when we stopped for gas on the way home from church, he and I had this conversation:

S: Hey, look, there's Daddy!
M: I know, Daddy's going to pump Mommy's gas.
S: Why?
M: Because I don't like getting out after dark at this gas station.
S: Mommy...you have clothes on, are you?
M: Do I have clothes on?!
S: Yeah.
M. Yes, I have clothes on. What does that have to do with anything?
S: 'Tuz, Mommy, it's cold out there!

one, two, three...

This day three years ago, Chris and I came home with our 2-day-old firstborn. I don't know where the last three years have gone, but I've loved every minute of them with this kid. I thank God every day for loaning me this precious little boy--sometimes I still can't believe I'm the one who got him. And just when we think things can't get any better and he can't get any cuter or sweeter, they do and he does. And even though I'm proud of the little boy he's quickly becoming, a big part of me is sad that he will soon leave all stages of baby- and toddler-hood behind him forever (if he ever decides to get out of diapers!). So right now I'm just trying to cherish his sweet threesomeness and all the little things he says and does before they leave too, because I so desperately want to remember...

• how he wakes up every morning with a smile and boundless enthusiasm for the day
• how much he loves his "ohl-neen" (Ovaltine)
• how he loves to just sit and look through books at random moments throughout the day
• how he likes to "read" to himself before he goes to sleep for a nap
• how "the wise man's house" is his most frequently requested bedtime song and after-breakfast Bible story
• how he likes to make Ben laugh...and run in circles, and jump on beds, and play "tackle"
• how he likes to ask me, "Mommy, play with me hair," especially at bedtime
• how he's so quick to come up to us with spontaneous hugs and sweet little, "Mommy/Daddy, I yuv you"
• how he has to kiss all three of us good night every night
• how he loves cars and trains and airplanes, both real and toy ones
• how he loves to eat almost anything, but especially fruit and yogurt and the very rare (and therefore very cherished) sweet treat like a birthday cupcake
• how he tries to join in adult conversations like he really knows what's being talked about
• how he loves to talk on the phone...to anybody
• how he asks most of his questions in yoda-ese ("Mommy, this apple juice, is it?")
  
• how he tries so hard to do everything exactly as it's supposed to be done--three-point stance before a running tackle, dribble and run around before shooting a basket, hike the leg before throwing a baseball--and how he picks up all of that kind of stuff on his own without being taught
• how his memory is better than mine and Chris's combined and he'll make reference to obscure things that happened six months ago
• how his compassion just gets bigger the bigger he gets ("Mommy, what wrong?")
• how he loves going to Bible class and church and seeing all his friends (big and little, but mostly big)
• how he seems to get more and more lovable the longer he's around

Here's to you, little buddy. May you always be so quick to laugh and learn and help and love and play, because the world needs more of that. Happy birthday, Sean!

only boys

Warning: The following post is not for those who are squeamish about calling body parts by their given names and insist on coming up with cutesy nicknames so as to spare themselves, and their children (I suppose), some kind of embarrassment. For everyone else, read on and enjoy.

I challenge any mother of daughters to come up with a conversation quite as interesting as the one I had with Sean last week following his nightly bath:

[Just a sidenote: when Sean asks a question, his voice raises to an increasingly higher pitch, so by the time he's finished with his question and depending on its length, he may be speaking at an octave five times higher from where he started. Keep that in mind...]
Me: Sean, stop playing with yourself so I can finish drying you off.
S: Mommy, what dat?
Me: That's your penis.
S: My peanuts?
Me: Yes, Sean, your penis.
S: Mommy, why dat my peanuts?
Me: Because that's what makes you a little boy. Little girls don't have one of those.
S: Little girls don't have one of those? [The octave change that accompanied this question gave the implication that he was really asking, "You mean, there are people in this world who don't have one of these?! How do they get by?!"]

No, son, little girls don't have one of those. And mommies of little girls don't get to have conversations like this either.

Chris's only concern was that Sean was calling it his "peanuts" and now if anybody offers Sean some real peanuts...well, that could lead to another interesting conversation altogether.

sick

This is my little boy:


This is my little boy with horrible pinkeye, a really bad ear infection, a non-stop runny nose, and a nagging cough:


After four days of this, I'm ready to have my little boy back again.

attack of the stinker

Ben's orneriness seems to be increasing lately, and it apparently really steps up to new levels when he's exhausted. He refused to take more than a 45-minute nap yesterday, so by dinnertime he was in full stinker mode. After multiple incidences of him grabbing something he wasn't supposed to, and then turning and running, I couldn't keep it in any longer--I burst out laughing at the sight and sound of Ben running circles around the table and Sean shrieking along behind him, trying desperately to retrieve whatever Ben stole from him. I know I won't be laughing after years of this, but for one moment last night, I enjoyed the hilarity of it. Much to Chris's dismay, since he was having a *very* hard time disciplining anybody with me laughing my head off a room away.

And I think Sean tried to get even this morning. Ben, apparently, started playing with something that I had just told the boys to leave alone, and I turned around in time to hear Sean say to him, "No, Ben, no! Me give you 'pankin'!" Fun times.

four days to a 2-year-old

We were telling Sean a few days ago that in four days we would be going to Mimi and Poppy's house. He got all excited and breathlessly said, "Us...go...Mimi...Poppy's house! Forty days! Forty nights!" At least he's learning something from the Bible. Now we just have to work on context.

more of sean

The kid's always good for a few laughs. These gems were all from over the weekend:

RELATIVE (Mimi? Poppy? I don't remember.): Mmm, Sean, these eggs are good! Who made the eggs?
SEAN: God do!

[As Chris was kissing me and the boys before he walked out the door]
SEAN: Daddy, give Bobby kiss!
CHRIS: I already gave Mommy a kiss.
SEAN: NO, Daddy, give POPPY [my dad] kiss!

SEAN: Mommy, me want cheese, please!
ME: Do you want it shredded?
SEAN: NO! Me want EAT it!

"us going home"

We were riding in the van tonight and I happened to look back to see the boys holding hands and Sean quietly saying, "Baby Ben, us going home." I love to see that childish contentment. And like Chris said, that pretty much sums up life itself. We hold each other's hands and quietly remind each other "us going home." It doesn't get any simpler--or sweeter--than that.

amusing anecdotes

Sean's been cracking me up lately. Here's just a sampling of why, although imagine them spoken in 2-year-old language:

SEAN: I like [whatever]
US: Me too.
SEAN: Yeah, me three.

BEN: Waaah! Waaah! Waaah!
SEAN: Calm down, calm down! It's okay, calm down!

US (putting Sean to bed): Give me your cup and I'll go fill it up.
SEAN: Mommy, get me big boy water, please! (He means water from the bathroom sink--why it's called big boy water, we have no idea.)

SEAN (with a cheap metal nutcracker in his hand that basically consists of two metal rods hinged together, and Ben sitting attentively beside him): Baby Ben, let me clip your fingernails. Sit still! Just a few more! You're doing good! Almost done!

SEAN (after leaving the pediatrician's office): I like Dr. PAX!
ME: I do too. Why do you like Dr. Plax?
SEAN: Dr. PAX plays with me!

ME: Sean, do you want a sandwich for lunch?
SEAN: Yeah.
ME: What kind of sandwich do you want?
SEAN: Um, Ovaltine sandwich!

stumble trip! Stumble Trip! STUMBLE TRIP!

The boys and I were running late for church yesterday morning, so Chris went on ahead and left us to get there safely on our own, a task which you would think would be easy enough to accomplish. We were doing great up until we got out of the van at the church building. I had gotten Sean out and told him to stand on that side of the van while I went around and got Ben. Unbeknownst to me, though, he followed me around the van and stood behind me while I was getting Ben out. I went to back up (while holding Ben), stepped into Sean, and that started the neverending cycle of us stumbling and tripping all over each other until we all three finally fell in a heap about 5 feet from where we started. Ben was on top of me, fortunately, and I just scraped my leg a little bit, but Sean, poor little thing, knocked his head on the concrete. He sat up rubbing his head and looked at me with tears in his eyes and the saddest, most forlorn look on his face as if he was thinking, "What did you do that for, Mommy?!" I apologized profusely, assured him I had no idea he was there, said it was an accident, etc. I don't think he was convinced. I kept asking him the whole way inside if he was okay, since he kept rubbing his head, and he finally said, "No, Bobby! You pushed me over!" How's that for heartbreak?

And yet I can't quit laughing at the whole thing. Chris thinks I'm sick to find this so funny, but it surely had to look hilarious from an outsider's perspective. Arms and legs and bodies falling and flailing all over each other over and over again. And I have to admit, Sean's seeming to think I did it to him on purpose is pretty funny too.

P.S. In case you're wondering, he really was okay. The tears never fell from his eyes, and five minutes later he had completely forgotten the whole thing even happened. I'm not that easily amused.

reasons to laugh instead of scream

The famous "dinosaur shirt"

I love my little Sean, I really do. But I have to honestly say there are some days when his constant quest for independence drives me so crazy I want to pull my hair out. And those are the days when I have to remind myself that there are plenty of things about him that are fun and funny and worth laughing about, even in the midst of the hair-pulling episodes.

• We, apparently, have told him so many times that he's a "heavy boy" that he now, any time he has a hard time climbing onto something that's really high or awkward, says, "Mommy, me heavy boy!"
• His response anytime he doesn't want to do something is ALWAYS, "Mommy, me all done [insert undesired action]!" We've heard everything from "me all done eating" and "me all done sleeping" to "me all done soggin'" and "me all done stinkin'" (the latter ones in response to the question, "Do you have a soggy/stinky diaper?"). Sometimes we ask him if he wants to do something just to hear what he'll say, because chances are pretty good that it'll start with "me all done."
• He's started the amusing habit of laughing whenever he hears adults laughing too. He has no clue what he's laughing about, but he gets a fake little chuckle going that usually makes me laugh even harder. It's so adult, when you think about it, the whole laughing-because-you're-supposed-to thing. And it totally cracks me up coming from a 2-year-old.
• He loves being tickled--loves it. And I love tickling him just to hear that infectious laughter and see those adorable dimples and wait for his "Mommy, do it 'din!"
• He rarely picks out his own clothes, but when he decides he wants to or is given the chance to, you can 100% guarantee that he's going to head straight to his closet and pick out his "dinosaur shirt," which is actually shortalls with dinosaurs embroidered on the bib and leg. He's managed to wear that outfit as often as possible this summer, and I think it's time to retire the thing, sadly. I'm going to miss "dinosaur shirt."
• Every night after his teeth are brushed, I tell him to spit, he spits (or attempts to--kind of hard to do when you've already swallowed everything that should be spit. We're working on that.), and then he turns and looks at me and says, "Mommy, dat close one!" I have no idea what that means. But it sure is funny.
• He has the idea that if the garage door is going up, and he's attempting to go under it, that it doesn't matter how far away he is from the said door, he must crouch down as low as possible to keep from being knocked in the head. So usually what happens is the door is more than halfway up, and Sean's in the middle of the garage floor crouching down to keep from being hit by a door that's 6 feet away from him. He errs on the side of caution, what can I say?
• Best reason of all: the kid's just plain fun, that's all there is to it. He loves people, he loves to laugh, he's still sweet beyond belief. So in the end, what's not to laugh at all that?
  

my sons, the song leaders

This story line may be getting old, but it still cracks me up.

Tonight in church while we were singing I Keep Falling in Love With Him, Sean was belting out the phrase "over and over again" quite literally over and over again. Meanwhile, Ben was sitting with a friend of mine at the other end of the pew with his arms outstretched, waving them in the air like he was conducting an orchestra. The combination was too much. I admit it, I laughed. Out loud.

what's not to love?

Since I haven't posted any in a while, and just downloaded them from my camera today, here are photos of the boys from our trip to Texas last month:



P. S. Look below for new pics of Ben. I can't get enough of that little face and those feet.

like little children

After watching Sean's interest in spiritual things increase dramatically in the last several months, I think I finally fully understand what Jesus meant by becoming like little children.

I commented earlier on how much Sean loves to sing songs from Bible class. We had a singing Sunday night, and one of the songs we sang was Jesus Loves Me. Needless to say, we had several heads turning our way due to Sean's sweet little voice.

I also discovered when I subbed for his teacher on Sunday that he willingly says an entire prayer by himself in Bible class, all the way from "Dear God" to "Amen," thanking God for all of his family and friends in between. We pray with him every night, but we usually have to prompt him to get through it, so it was sweet listening to him say an entire prayer by himself (and he's only done it once for me at bedtime since then--I guess it's not the time or place for all-by-myself prayers).

We finally started a family devotional after breakfast just a few days ago, after months of thinking about it, talking about it, planning it. We were thinking that to accomodate the little ones and make it applicable, we had to make it more like a Bible class and needed more than just the Bible. We finally decided that God's people have been learning from just the Bible for years, that's what God instructed His people to listen to from the beginning, so that should be good enough for even the little ones. After Chris read a short passage and talked about it that first morning, he went to put his Bible down and Sean said, "No, Daddy, me want listen more!" It brought tears to my eyes. All I could think was, "Why can't we all have that kind of yearning? Lord, make my heart like that."

can't get enough

Sean's half-birthday was yesterday. Seriously? Halfway to three already? Where was I and where did the time go? Year #3 is flying by and I'm finding I can't get enough of this kid. Such sweetness. The more he's talking the more I'm loving his outlook on life.

A few weeks ago we saw a cloud cutting across a weak evening sun and Sean said, "Look, Mommy! Sun broke!"

And he's beginning to verbally express his emotions without being prompted: last week he came up and put his arm around Ben while we were rocking and he said, "Mommy, I yuv Baby Ben." And a few nights ago he heard Chris through the monitor singing Down in the River to Pray to Ben and at the end he looked at me and said, "I yike that song!"

Then there's his honesty. I asked him a few mornings ago what he wanted for breakfast and got this: "Ummmm, hot dogs!" Sorry, not for breakfast, little man.

And he's able to find just the right amount of mischief: a few mornings ago he got out of bed for a while before the rest of the family, a typical occurence (yes, we're lazy parents, but if you have a kid who does a good job of staying out of trouble on his own, why bother getting up until you absolutely have to?), except that this time I couldn't hear his usual pitter-patter. I got up to investigate and found him devouring a Twizzler from a package Chris left out the night before. He informed me he was "eat'n this." I see that.

His version of "why" is to incessantly ask, "Mommy, doing?" It doesn't matter that he can see what I'm doing, I still have to tell him.

And one of my absolute favorite things of my little Sean at 2.5 is listening to him sing songs from Bible class. He already knows all the words to Jesus Loves Me, but he loves to sing any songs. So it's become part of his nightly routine to sing a few songs before he goes to sleep. And, yes, most of them are accompanied by hand motions.

All I can say is I like the memories he's giving me.

and so it begins

I've wondered before what it must be like for parents of older children to send their kids out into the world, whether to school or a friend's house or wherever, and not really know what information, be it good or bad, might be infiltrating their minds while they're away. I thought it would be a while before I experienced that myself with my own children, but it seems to already beginning. Not in a bad way, fortunately, but beginning nonetheless...

A few weeks ago Sean heard me and Chris talking about a friend's baseball game, and he chimed in, "Big Ben hit home run!" Now, the kid loves sports but he doesn't know much terminology from any of them, especially something like a home run. Or so we thought. When we asked him where he learned about a home run he said, "Robert's baseball game," in a tone that implied, "DUH."

Then last week we were driving in the car and I hear him start singing. I turn around to see his little hands rolling the gospel chariot along. Again, I was dumbfounded. We didn't teach him that song (it's not in our usual repertoire of church songs that we sing at home), and he's only had a new teacher in Bible class singing that song for a few weeks. Amazing. And you could tell he was so proud of himself.

And when Chris got Sean dressed a few days ago, the little boy insisted on wearing his Cardinals shirt completely backwards with the Cardinals logo on the back and the "PUJOLS" and "5" on the front. When he's worn that shirt correctly before you could ask him what was on the front and he'd say matter-of-factly, "Birds." So out of curiosity, I asked him this day what was on the front and he looked down and said, "Um. Num-bee FIVE!" Chris and I were dumbfounded. Where did he learn about the number five? Sure, we've read him a few numbers books, but did he really pick it up from that? And if not, then who taught it to him? Unbelievable.

I'm enjoying knowing that everything he's learned so far out of my reach has been innocent, because I know there will all too soon come a day when he comes home asking about things I don't think he ever needs to know, and I'm not ready for that quite yet.

my favorite things...about sean at 2 1/3 y.o.

I've been thinking lately about how easy it is to remember to do a monthly update on Ben since he's changing so quickly from month to month, yet all the intricacies of Sean's little personality right now are getting somewhat overlooked. And yet I think about them and talk about them and love them so much that they are, indeed, worth recording. So here are some of my favorite things about Sean at 2 and 1/3 years old:

• "TANE tu!" I love that he says "thank you" for almost everything that's given to him or done for him (the trigger words especially seem to be "there you go." Anytime he hears "there you go," you can pretty much guarantee that his "TANE tu" will soon follow). I wish that Chris and I could take the credit for this, but we honestly have never emphasized saying "thanks." The kid just has a heart overflowing with thankfulness, I guess. And I love to hear it. There are few things sweeter that come out of his mouth than a big, heartfelt, "TANE tu, Bobby!" Priceless.
• His soft, soft skin. I thought babies were supposed to lose that after a while, but not Sean. And I'm so glad, because I love to feel that silky softness.
• The appetite of all appetites, in kids anyway. I rejoice that the child loves to eat. Truly, a boy after my own heart. I love sitting across the table from him and hearing his "MMMM!! Dummy!" about all kinds of different foods. Makes cooking (and eating) so worth it.
• His enormous, soulful brown eyes and those extraordinarily long lashes. They get me everytime.
  
• His recent attachment to the little blue stuffed puppy that we gave Ben for Easter. Ben's never been impressed with it, but Sean discovered it all of a sudden a few days ago and has slept with it for naps and nighttime ever since. He always has to make sure the puppy has "covers on," and the first night I had to come back into the bedroom to wipe the puppy's nose, but other than that, there have been no disturbances due to the extra little bedfellow. In fact, Sean seems to be sleeping better now than he ever has.
  
• His hilarious habit of answering with a very solemn nod or "yes" almost anytime he's asked a question that he doesn't fully understand. Chris especially loves this habit: "Sean, do you like to play with nuclear grade plutonium?" Serious nod and "yes!" "Sean, have you been to Indonesia?" Serious nod. You get the picture.
• His enthusiasm for going somewhere, anywhere. All we have to say is, "All right, boys!" and Sean chimes in with his extremely loud, "AW WIGHT. BOYS. IN. TAR!" And it's always accompanied by a solo stampede to the door.
  
• His volume. He has only one: LOUD. If you know Chris even a little bit, you'll understand where the kid gets it. Need I say more?
• His excitability. Sure, it can be rather annoying and frustrating at times, but most of the time his persistent excitement and fixation with a particular thing/person/event is quite amusing. He tends to get one thing in his head that he sees or wants to do and he immediately becomes a broken record. For example, motorcycles (Marshall's in particular), sports of any kind, and playgrounds.
• His love for his little brother. This is really worth noting, because I'm sure there will come a day when the love's not exactly there, and we'll need proof that at one point it was. For the time being, though, he loves to play with Ben. He's still figuring out that he needs to share, and that Ben isn't quite ready to play the way that he can, but overall their playtime together is quite enjoyable for everyone involved. And I love LOVE LOVE to hear them laugh together. Makes me smile every time.
• His sheer sweetness. Sean's always had a tender heart, even from when he was a baby. Chris used to not be able to tickle me in front of him because Sean thought I was being hurt and he'd start crying. And when he first started throwing a football around 14 months, he'd get upset or start crying if he hit me in the head with it because he thought he hurt me. Granted, those things don't bother him a bit now, but he's still as sweet as ever, and I hope that never goes away.
• His love for all things boy. If it involves balls, sports, trucks, numbers, dirt or adventure of any kind, Sean's in. And I love that. I don't always get it, but I do at least appreciate it. (And did you know, he can already count to seven, just by listening to a numbers book a few times? But ask him what color something is, and there's no telling what answer you'll get...but that's about true for any guy, right?)
  
• His being. I dreamed my entire childhood and young adulthood of one day having children, but I never could have dreamed that God would give me such a delightful little package all wrapped up in one little boy. I'm not naive enough to think that he's a perfect little angel, but he's at least healthy and happy, not to mention one of the cutest little specimens on the face of the earth. Three years ago I couldn't imagine life with him, and now I can't imagine life without him. What a blessing.
  

boys will be boys

I find it ironic that the day after I start reading James Dobson's Bringing Up Boys, this is the kind of day I experienced yesterday:

It began with Ben having a blow-out diaper, the likes of which I haven't seen since before he started solids two months ago. The mess went up his back and under his left armpit. Not exactly what I wanted to deal with at 6:45 in the morning. (And, yes, I realize this doesn't really have anything to do with him being a boy, but once you see how the rest of the day went, you'll understand.)

Then by 7:30 Sean had managed to drop his cup of applesauce on the carpet in the dining room while eating breakfast. Did you know that a cup of applesauce, when dropped on the floor at one end of a 6-foot table, can leave a splatter trail that goes the length of that entire table, all the way to underneath the chair at the other end? Seriously, Sean and I could have conducted a physics experiment on the trajectory of applesauce.

Throughout the morning Ben managed to 1) pull the vent out of the floor in the dining room and then stick his entire arm, all the way up to his shoulder, down the hole; 2) take out an outlet cover from an electrical outlet (a lot of good that one did); 3) crawl over to the landing at the top of the stairs, get on his belly and inch his way forward until he nosedived down the one step onto the landing, then continue scooting until he was all the way on the landing and could crawl around in circles to his heart's content (fortunately, I had actually remembered to put the gate up at the top of the stairs, so at least the landing was as far as he could go); 4) try to pull himself up onto the vacuum cleaner, but ended up knocking it over instead (I still don't know how he didn't whack himself with the thing); and 5) pull a box filled with packing peanuts off of the bench in the living room.

And Sean topped off the morning/early afternoon by refusing to swallow his last bite of lunch. So a 45-minute battle of the wills ensued, which delayed both his and Ben's naps by 30 minutes to an hour. Fortunately, both boys ended up napping well, the evening was much more mellow, and the day ended much sweeter than it began.

I may have boys, and I may (and do) love them dearly, but I'm not made to handle multiple days in a row like that. Here's hoping I never have to.

UPDATE: I forgot to add that this was the day that Ben also discovered the cat food. And when Sean saw that Ben had discovered the cat food, he quickly made his way over there to show Ben how to pick up pieces of cat food and drop it one by one into the water bowl. Fortunately, I caught them at it before there was too much food in the water, but this doesn't bode well for the tag-teaming they'll soon be doing, I'm sure.