The Latest on the Boys

I don't think two brothers could possibly be more different than my boys. I guess that's the beauty of motherhood, watching these tiny babies grow into individuals. So much is happening so fast, I thought it was time to record a little of it before time slips away from me, as it seems to be doing a lot of lately.

First, Master Seth. Sensitive, cautious, loving, imaginative beyond belief, a thinker, a comedian, a musician, a preacher and an encourager--these are just a few of the words that come to mind. He is my sweetheart.

Superman pajamas and cowboy hats are things of the past. Seth's new favorite clothing item is a red pirate do-rag, courtesy of a Pirates of the Caribbean/Happy Meal toy. He plays T-ball twice a week, where he is a pretty good hitter and runner, once he gets past all the "yucky" mud, and does some of his best daydreaming in the outfield. He towers over the rest of his team, but I think this is a fact of life he is adjusting to, as am I.

His latest obsessions include (1) knock-knock jokes and riddles, (2) David and Goliath, (3) spontaneous chatting with God,(not a bad habit) (4) historical disasters (Chicago Fire, Hindenberg, Titanic, etc.-- don't ask, he read it in a book--see number 5), (5) anything Daddy is interested in, (6) Thomas the Tank Engine and all things relating to trains, (7) spaceships, monstertrucks, racecars, anything with a motor basically, and (8) movies about all of the above, provided they are not "too scary." He doesn't talk about the planets as much lately as he used to, relating everyone to a particular planet, but still eats and sleeps "to grow up to be a man so I can be an astronaut." At one time, every ink pen, pencil or crayon in our house was a rocket. The same objects are now swords or lightsabres, depending on his persona at the moment, be it Peter Pan or Darth Vader.

Today Seth noticed "whiskers" on his legs and got so excited, asking if he was growing up to be a man like Daddy. This is by far his biggest ambition, as it should be. His imaginary friends are plentiful. Besides his trains, Seth frequently converses with his hands, Manny and Moses, who talk back to him in their distinct voices. At the moment, they are telling eachother knock-knock jokes in the living room. Of course, when Seth is wearing superhero pajamas, the hands become Supermanny and "Super She-woman." I have no idea where that one came from.

And then there's the singing. No description of Seth would be complete without impromptu creative songwriting. He seems to get great joy out of changing the lyrics to a familiar song to fit with one of his favorite themes. "Let me take you on a space cruise" is one example that comes to mind. Of course he's content to sing the original versions too, and his song library is huge. He seems to have picked up my love for the Swing era, early Elvis, movietunes and silly American folk songs. Sometimes he sings while playing his drums, keyboard or harmonica, but most often he can be found "driving" a vehicle of some sort across the floor or table while belting an appropriate song.

Yesterday I overheard the following while Seth was washing his hands in the bathroom: "God, its me, Seth. Thanks for making me strong and brave so I ran fast at my t-ball game today. It was a great game, but it was really kinda muddy. Well, you were there. You were with David when he fighted Goliath. I know you are with me always. You shape me with your righteous right hand... Well, I just wanted to say thanks!"

Can you say proud Mama?

I recently visited Seth's preschool classroom, where he introduced me to his classmates as "My sweet garden princess, but you can call her mommy." He is my "garden prince" and we "waltz" together whenever the mood strikes him, usually in our pajamas. It seems every time I put on a nightgown I magically transform into Cinderella Mommy, the sweet garden princess. I could go on, but there's your snapshot. Did I mention how much I love that boy?

Now for Danielbug. My angel. My "lagniappe." I didn't expect to be lucky enough to have two children, so he is my sweet surprise from God, the little exclamation point in my life. Daniel is now 8 months old. He is fearless, tough, busy, curious, independent, destructive, happy, cuddly at times, always adventurous, and always HUNGRY. Daniel will eat absolutely anything he can get his hands on. In recent weeks, Daniel has eaten three "spiders" off of a spider plant, part of a softdrink 12-pak carton, half a shopping list, countless other scraps of paper pulled from Seth's drawings, part of a cardboard picture frame backing, and about one quarter of a box of raisins--not the raisins, the BOX.

Daniel has an odd knack for causing things to "explode" without warning. He can turn a new pack of club crackers into a cloud of debris in five seconds or less. He can burst a sealed ziplock bag even quicker, as I learned at Wal-mart recently when he produced a shower of coupons and preceded to try to eat the bag they had been in.

The Danimal, as I affectionately call him, spoke his first two-word phrase today, and not surprisingly it was "Tot-dat" (stop that). I had to laugh as he parrotted me, happily shouting his new phrase over and over while he banged away on my computer keyboard!

Daniel is crawling well now, but prefers to "walk" in his walker. We have all learned to wear protective shoes when Daniel is around, or have our bare feet mercilessly run over. Daniel absolutely adores his older brother, and the feeling is mutual. If he loses sight of Seth, he will crawl to the edge of the living room carpet, or walk to the edge of the tile and shout for him, "Teh-Teh!" Daniel will not crawl on ceramic tile. This surface is apparently strictly for walking on, or banging on with Seth's drumsticks, another favorite activity. He will also walk to our bedroom door when Don is asleep and call out "Da-Da!" He definitely loves his DaDa, and DaDa is crazy about him too.

I have to add that Daniel is now the proud owner of two budding teeth, which we are all feeling the pain of. He had just begun to sleep through the night when the teething began, but I can't complain. This too shall pass. He is my little angel, even at 3 a.m.