Who is Sam?

It's a mystery. We used to have a little boy named "Sam" but he seems to be missing. Oh, Terry and I mention his name from time to time, but he's never really around. We do, on the other hand, have two Bens.

You see, Ben is Ben. Ben refers to himself as "Ben". Sam refers to him as "Ben". We refer to him as "Ben". He answers to it. It seems to be his name.

Sam is also Ben. Ben refers to Sam as "Ben" (or sometimes "Benny"). Sam refers to himself as "Ben". When Sam looks in the mirror, he points to the person looking out at him and says "Ben." When Sam looks at a picture of himself, he points to it and says "Ben." Sam usually will look up if we call the name "Sam" - but not always (not sure how much of that is him simply ignoring us though). If we run through the family names, he will point out who everyone is flawlessly . . . until we get to the name "Sam." "Okay, that's good. Now where's Sam?" He's stumped. Sam? Who's Sam?

I thought we'd gotten used to it. Terry and I just kept right on correcting them and saying "No, that's "Sam""... until I noticed something strange. I caught myself calling Sam "Ben" all week. I shake my head and correct it and then promptly do it again. I'm being brain-washed by two-year olds. I'm convinced of it. I can picture them now, upstairs in their rooms, giggling together at pulling one over on Mommy... and they're probably up there calling Sam by his given name. Sam.

Silence

I'm not going to lie to you ... I hide out in the bathroom. It's true; I did it today. Don't get me wrong - I Love (with a capital "L"!) my little guys but sometimes you just need a little peace and quiet from the relentlessly annoying sounds of The Wiggles, the cars being tossed across the room and all the toys that light up and scream music everytime a little finger presses a button. It can get very LOUD (also with a capital "L") around here and if, for the sake of my sanity, I have to perch on the edge of the bathtub for 5 or 10 minutes, so be it.

This is not something I do very often though, for two reasons. First, one never knows what trouble a couple of two year olds can get into when they're unsupervised (or even when the ARE supervised, for that matter). Secondly, and of much greater concern, the whole experience tends to end badly which kind of takes the peace out of the proposed bathroom solitude. Usually it ends with two heartbroken little souls wailing at the top of their lungs (thereby nullifying the "escaping the noise" reason for being in there in the first place) and pounding on the door until they eventually just fall in a pathetic heap on the floor in front of the door. I admit that I have become quite familiar with this entire routine during even those very legitimate bathroom excursions so I have found myself trying to limit even those... unless of course it's nap time, then it's good to go.

There's something about knowing your precious child is weeping on the other side of a closed door that instills even greater sympathy than having those same tears in front of your face. It's heartbreaking - and makes me feel like the worst kind of mother for sequestering myself in there in the first place. So, of course, unable to bear it anymore, I gently nudge the door open against their sprawled bodies which causes them to slowly slide across the kitchen floor (as they would still be refusing to get up at this point, in protest). The following hugs, kisses and reassurances tend to make it up to them and they scamper off with nary a bruised heart between them, while I still have that lingering guilt hovering around the edges.

Ah, it's a tricky thing - this solitude and silence that we sometimes seek - while our children are still toddlers (barely even into toddlerhood at that!) People tell me all the time that it too quickly passes and then you're wishing for those very loud, busy days back instead of the quiet empty house you have then. It's hard to foresee such a quiet time - with little ones, even the nights are sometimes loud so there is no guarantee of quiet even in sleep. Would I trade it? Never! Do I wish for a sound-proofed room in which to pass an hour each day? Absolutely! Will I forget the guilt from today and find myself again perched on the edge of the porcelain tomorrow? Likely.

Egg Carton Edibles

What parent isn't looking for a way to get their kids to eat their "food pyramid?" How to get those veggies or fruit or proteins into them? Oddly enough, it never seems to be too hard to get those carbs in!

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Expanding on an idea I saw that used muffin tins (a little too many cups to fill for two-year olds), I cut an egg carton in half so both Sam and Ben would have a tray that was manageable enough for them to carry to the table on their own, and had just enough spaces to hold the amount of food they'd eat. This was a huge hit with them! The egg was pretty messy but it was, naturally, the first thing they both ate. The ideas are endless - fill the cups with cheese, broccoli, asparagus spears, peas, rolled up luncheon meats, cut grilled cheese into strips, French toast cut into sticks . . . the list goes on.

.It is a challenge every day to keep the boys' minds engaged in things that do not involve the Wiggles, Barney or Hi-5, but I am determined to try - even if it just means making mealtimes a little more fun. I want them to linger at their activities and play instead of sailing through them all at high speed. I'm trying to slow down their life in any way I know how. Okay, so a cut-up cardboard egg carton is probably not going to change their world, but I'll tell you, that snack took three times longer to eat than the ones they wolfed down yesterday and it was enjoyed. And isn't that what childhood is all about? Enjoying each moment. Oh wait a minute - that's what motherhood is supposed to be about. Got it.

Animal Fun

Noah's Ark Little People play set, flannel board "animals and their homes" and forest animal magnet boards . . . why, the boys don't even realize they're learning! They are, after all, only two years old; a time when 95% of their time should be spent hard at work playing.

They're thrilled when I pull out the very special sets to play with, all the while practicing the animal names out loud. They run to the cupboard and bang on the drawers and say "toy, toy, toy" so I will pull out what, in actuality, is a learning tool that I've been using with them.

I love scouring the 'net for new activities and am constantly emailing my friends for ideas they've tried with their own kids. My sister, Heather, is regularly emailing me links to blogs that get my creative juices flowing. It is so incredibly worth every effort and each moment of time it takes to plan something new. When I see their eyes light up when I pull out a new craft or even present something to them in a different way, it makes my heart smile.

It is a challenge not to get frustrated by the mess and to reign myself in when one of them runs off with one of the pieces to an activity set and tosses it down the floor vent, but I'm working on it. I keep telling myself that these are new skills they're learning - even just sitting still for any length of time - and breathe in and out a few times when my "orderly tendencies" are tested by the messiness of toddlerhood. I remind myself not to expect too much and to remember that it really is all just play.

Homeschool-ish Sort-of-Preschool

Circle Time, hands-on directed activity, songs, finger play, puzzles, painting, playdough . . . I have changed my parenting philosophy and am reaping the rewards already. My boys are calmer (more often), my home is quieter (sometimes) and I am a whole lot less frazzled (usually). I have my sisters to thank for this whole new attitude adjustment; my two homeschooling, innovative, creative sisters. They are inspiring.

I have watched and learned as they've homeschooled their-collective-eight children. I have watched my nieces and nephews blossom under the tutelage and direction of their very-present-mothers. I have seen the difference that hands-on teaching makes when a child is having difficulty in one area or another. I have been inspired by the earnestness in their voices about their homeschooling classes and groups that they are involved in. Beyond that, I have seen the life lessons being taught that are sometimes neglected in a traditional classroom.

My boys are only two, but I want them to have that same experience - as much as they can for their age. I want them to have the structure that comes from learning at home, instead of being plunked in front of the TV for all hours of the day. I want them to learn their colours, shapes, letters and words as soon as they're ready, instead of waiting for their first day of school to begin their learning journey. I want them to have fun doing things that other creative parents are showing me they could be doing by now. I want them to play with things that don't require batteries and don't have flashing lights and screaming sirens. I want them to learn to sit still and listen so they're prepared for Sunday School. I want them to remember they were loved enough to be given the gift of discipline. I want them to know I cared enough to spend time with them. I want them to remember the joy of being little boys.

Already I can see a difference between the days when they have one too many kids videos on and the days where I pull out the Circle Time mats and we sing our songs and do our playing exercises. I can see the light in their eyes when I pull their chairs up to the kitchen table and bring out a special craft or activity they've never tried before. I hear their new words and see the way they share so well with other kids in the nursery at church. I see them becoming more purposeful in their playtime as I become more purposeful in the one-on-one time I spend with them.

I love how it makes me feel as a mother when I become a part of their lives instead of just trying to get through the crazy days. And as much as I want them to remember the joy of being little boys, I want to remember the joy of being their mother.

Potty-training TWINS; a lesson in differences

Do I do it at the same time or one at a time? Do I wait until they're both ready or just grab the one who looks like he'll go for it and focus on that one? Do I do rewards and stickers or praise? Do I use pull-ups or big boy underwear? Do I have myself committed to the pscyh ward today or tomorrow? AHHH!!!!

I researched. I read. I surfed the internet on all the twin sites for advice. I wondered "when". When is the best time? Are they ready? Is ONE of them ready? Am I even ready??? I worried and stressed and worried some more... and then one day I came home with a pile of tighty-whiteys and Sam wouldn't take them off. Well! Decision made. Two weeks before their second birthday Sam has decided that diapers are not for him. Stickers? Doesn't care. Reward treats? Never tried it because he doesn't care. After a few tutorials, he now just hops on, hops off, washes hands and out the door he goes. Ooookaaay then.

Ben? Oh, well Ben runs screaming in the other direction if he's even presented with a pair of big boy underwear and don't even get me started on sitting him on the potty; I can't even get him to bend into a sitting position! SOOooooo not ready.

I'm reminded, yet again, at how different the boys are. I should have known; what works for one has never worked for the other. And so, with that in mind, I started the sticker charts anyhow. I know that Sam could care less most of the time about getting a sticker for his efforts - he sometimes looks at it as just one more thing standing in his way before he gets to exit the bathroom and go play - but I know that BEN will need it. And so we do it anyhow so that, when he's ready, Ben will get his motivation and reward.

I love their differences. I love that they aren't two halves of a whole, but two very different little guys with two very different minds. And I LOVE that, right now, I'm only running one kid to the potty at a time and only changing one set of diapers. What a treat that is for me. So, thanks Sam, for making that decision so your dear ol' mommy doesn't have to have herself committed over a silly little thing like potty training. Maybe we'll save that one for the day you guys learn to drive.

Rememberings

I finished a book today in which a fairly minor character had a fairly major impact on my thoughts today. She was a large, feisty woman who loved God, loved to laugh and loved to "visit" with all who crossed her threshold. She went weekly to the rummage sale held in the basement of an old church and picked out scraps of fabric with which to make rag rugs. She reminded me of my grandmother. The woman and the rugs; Mama made those too. I kept thinking how I wish I'd had her show me how.

Odd times, certain things will bring her to mind - like these rugs or the canned plums I'd preserved this summer. I'd never done them before but the moment I took the first bite, she came straight to mind. Mom said the same thing when I handed her a jar. For me, it was the reminder of the plums my sisters and I picked from the tree at our Scenic Drive house that Mama collected from us and made into jam. I couldn't have been more than twelve then, but that taste has stuck in my mind as a memory of her.

Like Tetley tea and white bread with butter and brown sugar. Like peas on toast or soft french toast with icing sugar. Chocolate macaroons or thimble cookies with jam spooned into the fingerprint pressed in the centre of each one. Like biscuits brought to Thanksgiving dinner in a cookie tin lined with waxed paper. Like pickled beets and whole tomatoes eaten like an apple with a sprinkling of salt on each bite. There are reminder smells and sights that bring her to mind too but these are the tastes I go looking for when I want a good remembering.

Mama and I used to swap books all the time. We'd each read the book ahead of time before we gave it to the other for a gift. I think she would have really enjoyed this one; it has a character in it I'm sure she would have loved.