I've discovered that there is a very distinctive succession of events that lead to tears.
It usually goes like this: Thump, "Whoa!" and then screaming.
This doesn't happen just anytime, it happens when my hubby is with the boys. They love to play with daddy and daddy loves to play with them. The problem is that they get so wound up they lose the ability to control their movements and he doesn't always know when to stop.
The perfect example of this happened yesterday while I was well...shall we say, indisposed?
The master bath is located directly above the family room and the sound carries right through the floor! I could hear the boys - all three of them - giggling away then heard Thump, "Whoa!" and then screaming, followed by, "Oh my God!"
Oy Vey! OMG means blood!
Unless it's his own, hubby doesn't handle the sight of blood well. Anyone else's, especially one of the kids, and all bets are off. Composure goes out the window and panic sets in.
He began to scream for me and I foolishly tried to yell a response.
I then heard him wrestling with the gate at the bottom of the stairs while I desperately tried to finish my "business."
He yanked the bathroom door open just as I pulled my pants up and stood there, with a bleeding stuntman in his arms, looking shocked to see me by the toilet. Not sure what he thought I was doing but, "I have to go to the bathroom," usually means one of two things.
I grabbed the first aid box (not kit, we've learned that the small kits just don't cut it for us) out from under the sink and got to work.
Stuntman had bitten his tongue.
Saliva made it look like he was going to bleed to death, but as far as actual blood goes there wasn't much and it stopped bleeding very quickly.
Hubby announced that he had to go back downstairs because, in his state of panic, he'd left the Engineer on the sofa!
Seriously?!
His panicked states are pretty much the same regardless of the circumstances. His ability to think or act rationally just goes right out the window!
The other day while changing the Stuntman's diaper, the stuntman decided to poop. I had the Kitchen Aid whirling away and didn't hear him screaming for me. Suddenly there was loud banging followed by louder, "HELLO!!!"
I sprinted up the stairs to find hubby with a screaming stuntman on the table, legs up in the air as daddy desperately cleaned up the poop. The Engineer was on the floor screaming because daddy's screaming had frightened him.
Ummmm.....Yeah... really?! You were screaming because of poop?!
OMG!
Despite his panic and gagging, there really wasn't much I could do. So I picked up the hysterical Engineer and tried to calm him while trying desperately not to yell at my hubby and upset the babies even more.
Most of the time he's a really laid back guy. Evidently, poop and blood are his kryptonite.
He's one of the handiest hubbies on the world. Need recessed lighting installed? How about hardwood floors? Sheetrock? He's the guy. He really can do anything except walk through a room without hitting a toy.
He. Never. Looks. Down.
We are 13 months into this parenting thing. He has tripped over countless toys. He has fallen down, stubbed his toes, and made things squeak in the dark and yet he has not adjusted his walk.
It's weird. I noticed early on that, while in the house, I had developed a gate that allows me to move forward, without scuffing my feet, by barely lifting my foot off the floor. This way if I do contact something I don't step on it or trip over it, I push it out of the way. Sort of along the same lines as the old trains with the cow catcher on the front.
We have a play-mat that we keep upstairs for the boys. We use the mat more as a home-base for the upstairs toys because we can move it from room to room as needed. At night we usually put it in the hallway out of the line of traffic so we don't trip over it in the dark.
Hubby decided the other night that he would leave it on the floor in the bedroom, precisely placed so as to not trip over it if he had to get one of the kids.
It didn't work.
He tripped.
And tripped.
And tripped.
The mat has these tube things that arch up and connect diagonally at the corners. Once in, it's like trying to get out of a crab trap.
The toys rattled, the one set to come on with motion began to play music and he even stepped on the praying Angel, "Now I lay me down..."
"Shit!"
Snark.
"Shut up," he said with a laugh.
Showing posts with label giggling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label giggling. Show all posts
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Monday, October 28, 2013
The Climb to the Top
As I have mentioned in previous posts, we have a fireplace with a raised hearth. Many people, mostly well meaning family members, have questioned our decision to not put padding around the edge of the hearth. We refuse the bubble wrap the house! They all fear that the boys will crash into it and hurt themselves. This may in fact be a concern but it's hasn't been...yet.
For weeks now, we have been keeping the boys from climbing up onto the hearth for fear that they will fall off it. We have hardwood floors, installed by yours truly and the hubby, and the fall is a solid 9.5". (Yes, as a matter of fact, I did measure it.)
The battle to keep them off the hearth was unending. They were bound and determined to climb up on the damn thing. When they weren't trying to climb up they were pulling on the screen and the fireplace tools. The screen is not really a big deal because it is very light and there are not really any sharp edges. The tools are another story completely. Not only are they heavy but this is a wood-burning fireplace and we use the tools...they are dirty!
In an effort to win at least one battle, hubby put the tools behind the screen inside the fireplace.
Nice idea but it missed the mark.
Now the kids saw the screen as a challenge. Every-freakin'-day was a constant battle to keep them from trying to pull the screen down to get to the tools. It was a nightmare.
As their crawling improved, so did their strength.
Not only could they stand at the hearth and hit the screen, they could climb onto the hearth and pull on it. Of course the inevitable happened. One twin pulled and the screen came down on top of the other.
Oh joy!
The one that managed to pull down the screen was very excited that his access was no longer blocked and he was not at all deterred by the fact that his brother was crying. I now had one twin on the hearth happily enjoying unencumbered access to filthy fireplace tools and another on the floor screaming! He was not hurt but it scared the crap out of him.
I moved them off and away from the hearth and put the screen back but I knew that this was not over.
A couple of days later while talking to my hubby I had to pull the kids off the hearth about 10 times in as many minutes and we decided that it was time to teach them how to safely get down off the hearth. We practiced the "feet first dismount" a couple of times and the first time we let them crawl up there without resistance from us David let out a triumphant growl while clenching his fists and wiggling his feet. We laughed.
Battle lost.
The next day David once again, won the battle of the kitchen island shelf. This one is 13" off the floor ( yes I got the ruler out again) and a much tougher climb. Up he went and again I got the growl.
Another battle lost.
I keep a pile of spare baby blankets on the love seat in the playroom. It's convenient and I don't really have anywhere else to store them. Anyway...last weekend the kids were in the playroom while I was getting breakfast ready when I heard my hubby shout, "Oh my God!" I looked up and there was David ON the love seat...growling!
The dynamic duo had figured out that if they pulled the blankets off the sofa and climbed up onto the pile they could get up on the cushions.
Oh goodie!
So exciting because I certainly didn't have much to worry about before.
I am not delusional; I never actually expected to win any of these battles but I didn't expect to lose them so soon.
For weeks now, we have been keeping the boys from climbing up onto the hearth for fear that they will fall off it. We have hardwood floors, installed by yours truly and the hubby, and the fall is a solid 9.5". (Yes, as a matter of fact, I did measure it.)
The battle to keep them off the hearth was unending. They were bound and determined to climb up on the damn thing. When they weren't trying to climb up they were pulling on the screen and the fireplace tools. The screen is not really a big deal because it is very light and there are not really any sharp edges. The tools are another story completely. Not only are they heavy but this is a wood-burning fireplace and we use the tools...they are dirty!
In an effort to win at least one battle, hubby put the tools behind the screen inside the fireplace.
Nice idea but it missed the mark.
Now the kids saw the screen as a challenge. Every-freakin'-day was a constant battle to keep them from trying to pull the screen down to get to the tools. It was a nightmare.
As their crawling improved, so did their strength.
Not only could they stand at the hearth and hit the screen, they could climb onto the hearth and pull on it. Of course the inevitable happened. One twin pulled and the screen came down on top of the other.
Oh joy!
The one that managed to pull down the screen was very excited that his access was no longer blocked and he was not at all deterred by the fact that his brother was crying. I now had one twin on the hearth happily enjoying unencumbered access to filthy fireplace tools and another on the floor screaming! He was not hurt but it scared the crap out of him.
I moved them off and away from the hearth and put the screen back but I knew that this was not over.
A couple of days later while talking to my hubby I had to pull the kids off the hearth about 10 times in as many minutes and we decided that it was time to teach them how to safely get down off the hearth. We practiced the "feet first dismount" a couple of times and the first time we let them crawl up there without resistance from us David let out a triumphant growl while clenching his fists and wiggling his feet. We laughed.
Battle lost.
The next day David once again, won the battle of the kitchen island shelf. This one is 13" off the floor ( yes I got the ruler out again) and a much tougher climb. Up he went and again I got the growl.
Another battle lost.
I keep a pile of spare baby blankets on the love seat in the playroom. It's convenient and I don't really have anywhere else to store them. Anyway...last weekend the kids were in the playroom while I was getting breakfast ready when I heard my hubby shout, "Oh my God!" I looked up and there was David ON the love seat...growling!
The dynamic duo had figured out that if they pulled the blankets off the sofa and climbed up onto the pile they could get up on the cushions.
Oh goodie!
So exciting because I certainly didn't have much to worry about before.
I am not delusional; I never actually expected to win any of these battles but I didn't expect to lose them so soon.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Mornings, Midnights and Mayhem
I am not a morning person.
If I could sleep until 7:30 every morning I would be a happy girl. Most mornings however, at least one of my boys is awake at 6 am or 5:30, 5:00, 4:30, 7:00, 7:30...you get the point.
There doesn't seem to be any real consistent time that he sleeps until. And, before you go analyzing it, there isn't any particular reason either. This is the child that can go 5-6 hours on a 20 minute power nap. The fact that I ever even get to sleep until 6 is often a miracle.
My favorite mornings are the ones where both boys are awake and "talking" to each other across the room.
I love waking up to giggles.
I truly believe that there is no better way to wake up in the morning than to happy, giggling babies. This used to be the exception but lately it has been the rule. There is just no way to have a bad day when your kids wake you up like that.
I wish the nights were as wonderful. Unfortunately, one of my boys has been having night terrors.
Despite my repeated attempts to clarify the difference between nightmares and night terrors to my mother she insists that it has something to do with the way we play with the boys.
The boys love, love, LOVE to be tossed around. One of them in particular really gets a kick out of being swung by his ankles, upside down and dropped on his back onto the bed or sofa. He gets the biggest smile and laughs out loud.
Truly a LOL - not the I'm smiling to myself LOL that we associate with Facebook.
The higher the better. If we can toss him onto the bed and make him bounce he gets even happier.
He is our wild child.
The other one likes to bounce but prefers to be on the bed on his back and have one of us bounce the bed. He thinks it's hysterical. He is also the one that is capable of entertaining himself for long periods of time with no other human interaction. He will sit and turn pages of books as if he is reading or study a pair of plastic toy pliers like he is looking for a way to improve them. He will be the head of engineering.
The daredevil is happiest on a lap. He loves people and doesn't care who they are. He will go to anyone and be happy as a clam in their arms. He is very stubborn, throws temper tantrums when told "No", smiles at everyone in the stores and already likes to be the center of attention. He will be the head of marketing.
Night terrors, as you may know, have no similarity to nightmares other than sharing the word "night." It is a sleep disruption, not related to dreaming. When we pass from one sleep stage to another it is usually a seamless transition that we don't notice because, well...we're asleep.
Kids with night terrors are disturbed by the transition.
You know when you're falling asleep and suddenly get the sensation that you're falling from a cliff? That's the same thing that happens to cause the night terror. They never wake up they just thrash and cry and sometimes scream. It can last anywhere from a couple of minutes to half and hour and there is really nothing anyone can do about it other than keep the child from hurting themselves when thrashing around.
In doing research I discovered that children don't often experience these until about 18 months. Mine are 11 months. We are ahead of the curve, so to speak.
Lucky us.
The good news is that he's been having these about an hour and a half after he's been asleep - and I am still awake. Dealing with an incoherent, unresponsive child is difficult enough. Doing so from a sound sleep is harder. I usually pick him up and sit in the rocker until he settles down and goes back to sleep. I wait a few extra minutes to make sure that he's really under and then put him back in his crib. Fortunately, once the episode is over he's usually down for the night.
If all goes well I wake to giggling.
We usually start the day upstairs in the master bedroom. I bunch up the comforter from our bed and have the boys lie down on it to have their morning bottles while I hang out in the rocking recliner sipping my coffee. The boys will play with each other for about 30-45 minutes while I read my email and then we venture downstairs for morning snack and more playtime.
Most days are pretty good. But... I'm sure you've heard of Controlled Chaos? Well, I live in Managed Mayhem.
They have learned to divide and conquer. If I catch them doing something that requires the word "no" and I have to head over to them they will crawl in opposite directions.
Smart little buggers!
I usually grab whoever is the closest and, if need be, put them in the playpen or at the very least, move them to the playroom. The head of engineering will usually busy himself with whatever I put in front of him. The head of marketing will decide that he needs a new plan and will head in another direction.
In addition to crawling the boys have begun to climb. I do know that there is little we can do to prevent this from happening. Oh sure, we've installed the baby gates at the top and bottom of the stairs. The basement door is now closed all of the time and we have locks on the cabinets with dangerous or breakable stuff in them.
However, my kitchen island is actually a commercial prep table with a shelf on the bottom of it that has been cleaned off of all baking items. Recently the boys have begun to climb on it. I use it as an easy place to store toys when I'm cleaning. Now, I am constantly trying to keep them from climbing on that shelf and the lower shelf of our end table.
We also have a stone fireplace and a rather large hearth.
The other day I was working at the kitchen table and looked up to find both boys on the hearth holding onto stone the fireplace as if they were about to begin a rock-climbing exercise.
A week ago, the boys were in the playroom which is located in the front of the house next to the stairs. They like to rattle the gate at the bottom of the stairs and I thought to myself that I hadn't heard the gate so I went to make sure that it was closed.
It wasn't.
I turned the corner and the head of marketing, who was 2/3 of the way up the stairs, turned and reached for me. He cartwheeled and as his feet came up over his head I caught his ankles. He was not injured and surprisingly I did not suffer a heart attack. I keep the gate closed almost all of the time now.
Between snacks, playtime, meals, naps, picking up toys and laundry my days fly by. Things I thought I would be able to finish in a day - take two, sometimes three, days to complete and of course I frequently forget what I was doing before I was interrupted by the heads of engineering and marketing to settle a dispute...or change a diaper.
The house frequently looks like FAO Schwartz puked in it. I pick up the toys two to three times a day. Not because I am some sort of anal-retentive neat freak but because I like to keep my ankles in whatever working order they have left.
We have the bottom shelf of the island in the kitchen, a cabinet in our entertainment center and the bottom shelf of the diaper changing table for toy storage. And if I am in a rush I just grab everything and toss it into the playpen. Thinking about this now, I'm surprised that I don't do that more often.
Some days I feel like all I do is follow the kids around the house saying, "No" or "Aah, aah, aah?" And, you know all those sayings that we swore we would never, ever say to our kids when we were younger? Yup, I'm there and they're only 11 months old.
I find myself actually saying things like, "Nobody wants to hear that noise, get your finger out of your brother's ear, and today was the first time I actually uttered the words: stop fighting."
I hate to admit it...But I sounded just like my mother.
If I could sleep until 7:30 every morning I would be a happy girl. Most mornings however, at least one of my boys is awake at 6 am or 5:30, 5:00, 4:30, 7:00, 7:30...you get the point.
There doesn't seem to be any real consistent time that he sleeps until. And, before you go analyzing it, there isn't any particular reason either. This is the child that can go 5-6 hours on a 20 minute power nap. The fact that I ever even get to sleep until 6 is often a miracle.
My favorite mornings are the ones where both boys are awake and "talking" to each other across the room.
I love waking up to giggles.
I truly believe that there is no better way to wake up in the morning than to happy, giggling babies. This used to be the exception but lately it has been the rule. There is just no way to have a bad day when your kids wake you up like that.
I wish the nights were as wonderful. Unfortunately, one of my boys has been having night terrors.
Despite my repeated attempts to clarify the difference between nightmares and night terrors to my mother she insists that it has something to do with the way we play with the boys.
The boys love, love, LOVE to be tossed around. One of them in particular really gets a kick out of being swung by his ankles, upside down and dropped on his back onto the bed or sofa. He gets the biggest smile and laughs out loud.
Truly a LOL - not the I'm smiling to myself LOL that we associate with Facebook.
The higher the better. If we can toss him onto the bed and make him bounce he gets even happier.
He is our wild child.
The other one likes to bounce but prefers to be on the bed on his back and have one of us bounce the bed. He thinks it's hysterical. He is also the one that is capable of entertaining himself for long periods of time with no other human interaction. He will sit and turn pages of books as if he is reading or study a pair of plastic toy pliers like he is looking for a way to improve them. He will be the head of engineering.
The daredevil is happiest on a lap. He loves people and doesn't care who they are. He will go to anyone and be happy as a clam in their arms. He is very stubborn, throws temper tantrums when told "No", smiles at everyone in the stores and already likes to be the center of attention. He will be the head of marketing.
Night terrors, as you may know, have no similarity to nightmares other than sharing the word "night." It is a sleep disruption, not related to dreaming. When we pass from one sleep stage to another it is usually a seamless transition that we don't notice because, well...we're asleep.
Kids with night terrors are disturbed by the transition.
You know when you're falling asleep and suddenly get the sensation that you're falling from a cliff? That's the same thing that happens to cause the night terror. They never wake up they just thrash and cry and sometimes scream. It can last anywhere from a couple of minutes to half and hour and there is really nothing anyone can do about it other than keep the child from hurting themselves when thrashing around.
In doing research I discovered that children don't often experience these until about 18 months. Mine are 11 months. We are ahead of the curve, so to speak.
Lucky us.
The good news is that he's been having these about an hour and a half after he's been asleep - and I am still awake. Dealing with an incoherent, unresponsive child is difficult enough. Doing so from a sound sleep is harder. I usually pick him up and sit in the rocker until he settles down and goes back to sleep. I wait a few extra minutes to make sure that he's really under and then put him back in his crib. Fortunately, once the episode is over he's usually down for the night.
If all goes well I wake to giggling.
We usually start the day upstairs in the master bedroom. I bunch up the comforter from our bed and have the boys lie down on it to have their morning bottles while I hang out in the rocking recliner sipping my coffee. The boys will play with each other for about 30-45 minutes while I read my email and then we venture downstairs for morning snack and more playtime.
Most days are pretty good. But... I'm sure you've heard of Controlled Chaos? Well, I live in Managed Mayhem.
They have learned to divide and conquer. If I catch them doing something that requires the word "no" and I have to head over to them they will crawl in opposite directions.
Smart little buggers!
I usually grab whoever is the closest and, if need be, put them in the playpen or at the very least, move them to the playroom. The head of engineering will usually busy himself with whatever I put in front of him. The head of marketing will decide that he needs a new plan and will head in another direction.
In addition to crawling the boys have begun to climb. I do know that there is little we can do to prevent this from happening. Oh sure, we've installed the baby gates at the top and bottom of the stairs. The basement door is now closed all of the time and we have locks on the cabinets with dangerous or breakable stuff in them.
However, my kitchen island is actually a commercial prep table with a shelf on the bottom of it that has been cleaned off of all baking items. Recently the boys have begun to climb on it. I use it as an easy place to store toys when I'm cleaning. Now, I am constantly trying to keep them from climbing on that shelf and the lower shelf of our end table.
We also have a stone fireplace and a rather large hearth.
The other day I was working at the kitchen table and looked up to find both boys on the hearth holding onto stone the fireplace as if they were about to begin a rock-climbing exercise.
A week ago, the boys were in the playroom which is located in the front of the house next to the stairs. They like to rattle the gate at the bottom of the stairs and I thought to myself that I hadn't heard the gate so I went to make sure that it was closed.
It wasn't.
I turned the corner and the head of marketing, who was 2/3 of the way up the stairs, turned and reached for me. He cartwheeled and as his feet came up over his head I caught his ankles. He was not injured and surprisingly I did not suffer a heart attack. I keep the gate closed almost all of the time now.
Between snacks, playtime, meals, naps, picking up toys and laundry my days fly by. Things I thought I would be able to finish in a day - take two, sometimes three, days to complete and of course I frequently forget what I was doing before I was interrupted by the heads of engineering and marketing to settle a dispute...or change a diaper.
The house frequently looks like FAO Schwartz puked in it. I pick up the toys two to three times a day. Not because I am some sort of anal-retentive neat freak but because I like to keep my ankles in whatever working order they have left.
We have the bottom shelf of the island in the kitchen, a cabinet in our entertainment center and the bottom shelf of the diaper changing table for toy storage. And if I am in a rush I just grab everything and toss it into the playpen. Thinking about this now, I'm surprised that I don't do that more often.
Some days I feel like all I do is follow the kids around the house saying, "No" or "Aah, aah, aah?" And, you know all those sayings that we swore we would never, ever say to our kids when we were younger? Yup, I'm there and they're only 11 months old.
I find myself actually saying things like, "Nobody wants to hear that noise, get your finger out of your brother's ear, and today was the first time I actually uttered the words: stop fighting."
I hate to admit it...But I sounded just like my mother.
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