criblog: the song of the count

Scene: I have no idea what Aleph is telling Bet he can't do - I hear the beginning of each sentence, but then he drops off to a mumble - but he sure has a long list of reasons why not.

ALEPH: ...Third of all, blahblahblah. Fourth of all, blahblahblah. Fiveth of all, blahblahblah. Fourth of all...

[short pause]

ALEPH: onetwothreefourfive Sixth of all,

file under: narrowly unsaid

BET: Eema, why don't we have a sister?

EEMA:

EEMA: [um, what birds and bees?]

EEMA: [I'm guessing "because day 5 blasts are more likely to be boys" is not what you're looking for?]

EEMA: [oh, sweetie. you have no idea.]

riding in cars with aleph

Scene: On the way to Bubby & Zayde for Pesach. The direct approach sometimes backfires in the car, so I haven't declared it naptime, but I'm about to put on a naptime CD.

ALEPH: No Eema, no songs. It's better to sit quietly for a few minutes.

EEMA: Oh good, is it Quiet Time? [Quiet Time^TM: the half-hour before bedtime, which generally consists of soft lighting, low voices, and Rockabye Baby U2 or the Cure (thank you, Emma.)]

ALEPH: No, we don't need Quiet Time. Just a few minutes of quiet. ...With sitting. Just some quiet sitting.

Note: Aleph is out cold within 5 minutes.

***

Scene: Aleph discovers a new friend at Bubby & Zayde's, and invites her to his crib.

ALEPH: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, Minnie Mouse. I would like to sleeeeeeeeeep with you.

***

Scene: Aleph finds me stretched out on Bubby & Zayde's couch, feet crossed, reading a novel.

ALEPH: Ooh, Eema, can I read you a story?

EEMA: Sure.

[Aleph picks up another random novel and lies down exactly like me.]

ALEPH: A man grabs a toy from a child.

EEMA: Oh no. Then what happened?

ALEPH: Another man grabs a toy from another child.

EEMA: Oh my goodness. How will they get their toys back?

ALEPH: When the man is finished using them.

[Duh.]

EEMA: That's quite a story, Aleph. What's it called?

ALEPH: Men Grabbing Toys from Children.

[Double duh.]

now i'm going to have nightmares

From behind me in the car: *click*

is that noise what I think it is?

ALEPH: [brightly] Zayde presses this button to open my buckle!

yes. yes it is.

My still-2-year-old now knows how to unbuckle his own car seat.

And I thought the time he unlocked and swung open the front door was scary.

make that an awwwwwwww

Scene: Trying to cook for shabbat without children underfoot. NotMary Poppins is here for expressly that reason, but is not... shall we say... all that effective. Aleph has been in and out of the kitchen every 5 minutes.

ALEPH: [running in again] Eema, Bet says he's not gonna be done with the guitar at all!

EEMA: [poking head into playroom] Bet, do you remember what happens if you say you're not going to be done at all?

BET: Yeah.

EEMA: A grownup has to decide when you're done.

BET: I'm gonna be done in three minutes.

EEMA: OK, Aleph, it will be your turn in three minutes.

ALEPH: But Eema, I need help waiting!

EEMA: OK, sweetheart. Ask NotMary Poppins to help you.

ALEPH: [looking down and toeing the floor] But... I need my best grownup.

noted, your majesty

Scene: Bet wakes up crying from his nap. Snuggles on my shoulder, rubbing snot all over me in the process. When he pulls away he notices puzzling wet spots on my shirt.

BET: This doesn't look too good. [swiping ineffectually] Eema, clean it.

***

Scene: College pizza joint. Rock has been blaring nonstop since we arrived. Bet is oblivious to everything but his mac & cheese... until White Wedding comes on.

BET: I don't like this one.

[White Wedding shifts tempo.]

BET: I don't like this one, either.

***

Scene: Last two times I served tortellini / ravioli.

BET: This is goooood.

BET: [finishes first bowl] I want more.

BET: [finishes second bowl] I want more.

EEMA: There is no more, honey. We ate it all up.

BET: [scolding] Next time, Eema, make sure to buy more!

***

Scene: Any time I talk to another grownup.

BET: Don't talk, Eema! Don'ttalk don'ttalk don'ttalk!

EEMA: You can't tell me not to talk, honey.

BET: Talk to ME!

send. help.

Things you don't want to hear behind your back, part 2:

"I peed in the refrigerator!"

a poem in the afternoon

The boys are jumping on our bed, their (and my) favorite way of shaking off the post-nap cranky. Luckily one of the beds is king-size, so it's a plenty large enough trampoline for two small boys. (Un?)luckily it's also ready to be thrown out, so a little more abuse makes no difference.

The walls of our bedroom are painted a deep, almost french blue. The bed linens are various shades of violet. The boys in their brightly colored tees and leggings make me want to film them, flying up in the air in technicolor and floating back down.

Aleph is jumping with his arms over his head. Suddenly he stretches as high as he can and says, "I can reach the sun!"

He stops jumping and comes over to me, looking at his hands. "I'm holding the sun!" He brings his cupped hands up to my face.

"Where are you putting it? On my cheeks?" I ask, charmed.

He brings them up higher and smiles a tiny smile. "In your eyes," he says, and spills them out.

remedial twin parenting

Next on the list of basic things that terrified me, but most twin moms probably mastered years ago: I took the kids out for pizza tonight. Just me. By myself. We all seem to have survived, unless letting Bet eat a bowl of macaroni & cheese larger than his head ends up killing him. The boys were pretty near angelic. Even the cashier guy, a single twentysomething I would have thought immune, told me they were cute kids after this exchange:

PERSEPHONE: [scanning menu at register] OK, we need one mac & cheese.

BET: [earnestly to cashier] We need some pasta!

PERSEPHONE: And -

BET: We NEED some pasta!

PERSEPHONE: Make that two mac & cheeses.

ALEPH: [equally earnestly to cashier] And we ALSO need some pizza!

I bet they could have just ordered for themselves if I'd let them.

So we got through the walking there, the waiiiiiiiting for our order, the not shouting or running away or tipping over your chair. They played hand games and asked for stories until the food came, and then it was just munch munch munch munch. They walked back in an overtired/carb-loaded daze, and I tried to pretend people we passed on the sidewalk weren't glaring at me for keeping my kids out so late. And then we were finally home, and it was way past bedtime, and I had them thisclose to pajamas and they said...

ALEPH AND BET: I'm still hungry!

Of course.

snapshot: a year ago january

We're at the grandparents'. The boys are still nursing but crazy about their solid food, too. I don't want them to see and beg for the fresh strawberries I'm slicing into my bowl of cereal, so I'm doing it up on the high counter.

I think the boys are busy on the other side of the kitchen but when I turn around, they're clustered around my ankles. Two round faces stare up at me bigeyed, like Toy Story aliens at The Claw.

One of them says, solemnly, "sawbabas."

oedipus bet

It's going to be kind of sad / frightening when Bet decides to turn his loverboy powers on someone other than me.

***

Scene: at the dinner table.

BET: Eema, I want your hand.

EEMA: I can't hold your hand while we're eating, Bet. But I love you.

BET: [munches for a while. then looks at me from under his lashes]

BET: Wanna... hug me?

***

Scene: out of nowhere. There's almost no sound, but I suddenly realize Bet is whispering.

BET: Eeeeeemaaaaaa. Eeeeeemaaaaaa.

i'm sorry, HAL

Scene: I'm trying to send an uncharacteristically important email while Aleph is leaning on my arm / crying in my ear for a video. As usual, it's not clear whether he's upset because I'm not giving him what he wants, or because I'm engaged with the computer anything instead of him. Also as usual, I am losing it just slightly.

EEMA: Aleph, I'm going to let you watch a video in one minute, but I need to finish this first! You just need to let me focus for one minute so I can finish this!

ALEPH: [wailing] I caaaaaan't let you dooooooo that!

criblog: you are sooo immature

BET: [kicking the side of his crib]

ALEPH: Bet, please don't do that.

BET: I want to.

ALEPH: But I don't like it.

BET: I want to.

ALEPH: All right, you can do it for two more minutes, but then I need you to stop.

BET: [stops kicking for a while]

BET: [starts kicking again]

ALEPH: Bet, Bet, Bet. I said no SO many times.

it doesn't get better than this

Sitting on my lap, Bet is playing his favorite combination of Eskimo-kissing and Twister, wherein we try to touch corresponding parts of our faces to each other. Both of us are giggling more and more as he goes on.

He starts with the classics:
nose to nose
mouth to mouth
eye to eye
forehead to forehead
hair to hair
ear to ear
cheek to cheek

then adds a new one:
Bet to Eema

...at which point I melt into a puddle of love on the floor.

also, is your refrigerator running?

Scene: Bet is talking to his grandfather on the phone. I am dying of laughter.

BET: Saba, how are you feeling?

SABA: I'm feeling fine!

BET: Animals.

SABA: [startled] What?

BET: Saba... are you thinking about animals?

SABA. Oh. Okay, sure.

BET: Saba... why are you thinking about animals?

SABA: [laughing] Because I like them a lot. Uh, cows, chickens...

BET: Dogs?

SABA: Yes, dogs too.

BET: What else?

and who taught you the word 'section', anyway?

Scene: The boys are playing their current favorite game, entitled "Hunting for Dimples," which involves running up and down the hallway with flashlights yelling "I found a dimple!" "I found another dimple!" Apparently inspired by the day I tried unsuccessfully to find studs under the drywall.

ALEPH: You have to hunt for dimples in this section.

BET: No, I don't want to.

ALEPH: But you have to!

BET: I'm hunting for dimples in this section.

ALEPH: That's not a section.

luckily, today was ALREADY bath day

Things you don't want to hear when you're putting the first boy on the potty, with the second boy & potty waiting behind your back:

BET: It's a hat!

They don't make 'em with seatbelts, do they?

let's play "i have food allergies"

Scene: Aleph is poring over a tiny-printed synagogue newsletter.

EEMA: What are you reading, Aleph?

ALEPH: I have to make sure there's no nuts in these in-dree-dients.

it'll be ANARCHY

ALEPH: [yelling] No no no no no Bet! You can't do that!

MARY POPPINS: Aleph, I don't like the way you're talking to your brother. Please don't tell Bet what to do.

ALEPH: [paraphrase; it was kind of jumbled, but I caught the key words] How about if next time I say yes?

MP: No, honey. Please don't tell Bet no or yes.

ALEPH: But... if we don't say no and yes, people will just do anything!!

Betisms*

* hmmm. I think I might have stolen this from Uberimma. Though of course she would have called them Barakisms or Iyyarisms.

Man, I'm going to be pretty sad when Bet stops calling the futon the "futime."

Others favorites he's already losing:
rhinoferos
torteghini
chikmunk

Aleph is the one more known for his consonant substitutions. He says /t/ for both t and k, and /d/ for both d and g, so his speech is sometimes a puzzle with way too many permutations to decipher. He can be remarkably patient, not to mention ingenious, in trying to make himself understood.

EEMA: What should we do next for the Name Game?

ALEPH: Dod.

EEMA: [Gd??]

ALEPH: Dod. Dod. Dod!!! [pause] A puppy!

But Bet has the funniest ones, possibly because they pop up so rarely. He sometimes - not always - uses /k/ for p. Resulting in this awesome slogan, the first time we took him to the pool:

BET: We're in the cool! You're in the cool!

We went around saying that for weeks. But this latest one beats all. Lance's mother, the last time she was visiting, taught Bet the phrase "in the nude" for when he's running around in his diaper avoiding pajamas. And it turns out Bet sometimes substitutes /m/ for n.

So now we occasionally have a half-naked boy racing around the house, yelling "I'm in the mood! I'm in the mood!"

Thanks for that, Mom. :D