Too long

I made this blog to record my kids' cutisms.  Owen is pretty much at peak production levels these days, and I am letting them all get by me.  He, on the other hand, has a fresh, new brain and forgets NOTHING.  NOTHING, I tell you.  He was telling me this morning about how he used to stand up in his crib when he was little if he had a dirty diaper and wait for me to come and change it.  That was well over a year ago now.  We're also at the stage where every tiny thing we say and how we say it gets picked up by his hypersensitive radar and repeated back at some point.  I often think I need more self-control about my tongue (being critical, complaining, harsh tone, sarcasm) and now I have a preschool police cop who I am aware is hanging on my ever word...got what I needed!  Anyway, back to the topic, I am in the mode where I avoid recording anything because I have forgotten so many fantastic exchanges that I can't do it perfectly, and therefore do it not at all.  That's sheer nonsense.  I must break that harmful thought cycle.

Me, noticing a hole in the sleeve of Owen's shirt cuff:  Owen, you have a hole in your shirt!
Owen:  Yeah Mommy, I did a giant bless-you there.
Me:  You sneezed?
Owen:  Yeah, it was SO big of a bless-you that it made a hole right there!

Mommy, I like the name you and Daddy picked for me.  Do you like your name?  My name is just right.

A brudder is your best friend in the WHOLE world.  I am Asher's brother and Asher is my brother and we love each other very much.  I am 3 and a half and Asher is 1 and a half and when I am 4, Asher will be 2, and then we will take showers together instead of baths and you will not need to help us.  We can wash each other's hair.

Owen: Mommy, don't leave me.  I want you to stay with me all night.
Me:  Here, I'll give Mr. Bear lots of hugs and kisses and then tuck him in next to you.
Owen: [chucking Mr. Bear off the bed] No Mommy!  Stuffed animals aren't the same as people!  Stay with me!
Me:  Owen, when you're a big daddy, you can find the just-right wife for you and sleep with her every night.
Owen:  It's OK.  You said when I'm a little older Asher and I can sleep in the same room.  Goodnight mommy.

Mommy, you made a whole dinner of GOOD foods.  I love EVERY THING in this dinner!  I love spaghetti, and I love corn on the cob, and I love celery, and I love peaches!  This is my favorite, favorite dinner!  Thank you, thank you mommy for this great dinner that has only good foods and no foods I don't like to eat!!

Mommy, I love you a million hundred miles into outer space so far that I love you more than a rocket ship can reach and way past where it can go.  I love you more than you love me! (The latter phrase is uttered routinely.  Owen is intent on winning all imagined love competitions.)

Owen loves to make packages and letters.  During his rest time (we're way past nap now, and rest time has evolved to you-can-do-what-you-want-so-long-as you-play-independently-and-leave-me-alone time), he routinely collects toys from around the house and wraps them up as gifts for various family members.  A few rolls of tape are small payment for the parenting break.  Also, he writes letters and seals them up in envelopes.  Recently he brought me a stack of letters.  He instructed me about whose name was to go on each letter (various cousins) and then instructed me to write this on the outside of each one:  "I'm going on a cruise ship ride when I'm 4.  You can open this letter on the airplane."  Indeed, we are going on a cruise with Reuel's extended family this summer and Owen is PSYCHED about it.  Perhaps the only competing even is his birthday, which he can also not get enough of talking about, and he adds something new every day to his birthday party wish-list...or should we call it a command-list  So far, he has landed on a beach party birthday theme, his cake will be in the shape of a lobster, we will eat real lobster too, we will decorate the house to look like the beach, we will have party hats that look like things at the beach, we will play instruments while listening to beach music, and we will play in the sandbox because it has sand like the beach.  Is your child by definition spoiled when he insists on eating lobster for his 4 yr birthday??  Admittedly, the real problem is that a while ago I thoughtlessly uttered something to the effect of, 'On your birthday, it's your special day and you get to decide what you want to do and what you like to eat!  You get to do whatever you like!'  Back to that whole he-doesn't-forget-a-thing-you-say problem :}

OK, poor Asher.  We are those parents.  I think we have 1/8 the pictures of Asher that we had of Owen by this time in his life.  So sad!  Asher has found his will, let's just say.  AND HOW!  The boy now knows what he wants and squeals/screams/fusses to try to secure it.  He is quite communicative, though not quite as good with words as Owen was at this age, yet we understand him more than we did Owen.  Once he gets what he wants, he's a little lark.  It can be a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde experience!  Especially if food is involved, watch out for the monster within.  Taking candy from this baby is not advisable.  The carseat is particularly reviled right now, and I find it mentally exhausting to even consider outings (which we do at least once/day, so I am always tired).  Strapping him in involves pushing his arched back down with all of my might, pinning him with my head while buckling (all the while he is clawing my hair) and then coldly walking away while he screams bloody murder for the first 3 minutes of the ride.  Then, in spite, he takes off both shoes and socks.  Every. Time. We. Drive.  Neither a whack on the rear nor a stern reprimand solves these problems.  I merely act as if I am unbothered (and I should get an Oscar for that, because oh, I am so bothered), and chant under my breath, "This too shall pass, this too shall pass."  And it shall!  I remember the same with elder brother.

To be fair, on his flip side, Asher is pure sugar.  This kid is a social animal, has never met a person who wasn't his friend (unless he is being left with them in a nursery, but he befriends after a few minutes), says hi to every person he passes, and bye-bye on the way out of any store to all the people coming in.  He runs over for hugs and cuddles, lights up and screams DADA!!! whenever Reuel appears, he melts on my shoulder routinely during the day, he lays sloppy ones on my cheeks and on Owen's, he plays with my hair and pats my back while he's hugging me.  This one is easy on so many levels.  Even the tantrums are sort of a known quantity with him.  They are fierce but short-lived, and he usually finds a way to settle himself down in short order.  He LOVES books, LOVES food (understatement; although he is a picky eater, he would like to be eating the foods he likes constantly while running around the house), learns extremely quickly from his brother, and is all in all a very smart little boy.  We're always amazed at what he's picking up on.

Asher's words:
Na-na (all done)
Heey (here, as in...take this!)
Beebee (baby)
Duck (stuck!)
Dough (down)
Uh! (up)
Whoa! (uttered perfectly, with perfect usage and vocal tones)
Whee! (same as above)
Yeeesssss (yes)
NO
Buh (book)
doos (juice)
doe (toe)
nose
eye
eeya (ear)
Haya (hair)
beep (said while putting his index finger on your nose)
beh (bellybutton)

The bathroom is nearly gutted and we're working on next steps, so off I go to be productive.  Take this entry, perfectionist memory-recording voice inside my head!