At least he admits it...

Last night while I was making dinner, Tyson kept coming into the kitchen and kicking the stainless steel drawer below the oven. I asked him to stop, yet he kept coming in and trying to kick it.

After a bit, he came into the kitchen, stood by the oven, and just fussed. No apparent reason, he just kept whining. 

Then he started to say "ah deeker...ah deeker...ah deeker," over and over again. I asked what he wanted...a sticker? Nope. Not a sticker.

Trevin came into the kitchen and said "Tyson, why are you crying? What's the matter?" (While my boys definitely fight a lot right now, T can be very sweet to his little bro.)

Tyson kept saying "ah deeker...ah deeker...ah deeker."

Then it came to me (the joys of deciphering the language of a two year old). "Tyson, are you being a stinker?"

(insert whiny tone here) "Yeah..."

At least he admits it, right?

From the mouths of babes

Lately, Trevin has been cracking us up with the things he says. It's funny to see how his mind processes the world around him.

The other day, as the boys were gobbling up quesadillas for lunch...
Trevin: Good food makes poop.
Me (a little surprised): You're right, it does.
T: And water makes pee pee...and ice.

Today, as I was making my bed...
Trevin (coming into the room, carrying a fire truck): Mommy, I'll  help you make your bed.
Me: Great! Is the fire truck going to help, too?
T: No. Fire trucks don't make beds...
Me: Oh, right. That's silly.
T: ...they're too big and tall.

And Tyson is developing quite the vocabulary at nearly two years old (tomorrow!). I had to fill out a developmental questionnaire for his upcoming dr. appt. and one of the questions was "Does your child say two or three words together to make a phrase or sentence? (not words like 'thank you' or 'bye-bye')" Then it asks you to include an example.

Well, he definitely does say two or three words. He even says five or six. As I answered the question and was trying to think of one of his sentences, he looked at me and said "I drop Lightning McQueen bib down there." Well, there you have it.

Tyson's other favorite phrases right now are "No mommy! No!" (not my favorite) or "Mommy, hold you" with arms held out for me to hold him (a request that I frequently oblige). He also likes to wake Trevin up in the morning by running into his bedroom yelling "Wake up brubber (brother)! Wake up!" And as we celebrated his birthday with family on Saturday, as he opened each gift he would say "Whaaat is it? Whaaat is it?" in this high-pitched, quiet voice.

My favorite, though, is when Tyson cracks himself up, which happens quite often these days. He'll pick a random word or phrase and say it, then bust a gut laughing. It will usually be two random words put together. The latest was when we were in the car, driving to the airport from my parents' house. There's a cartoon he's seen just a couple of times on Disney called "Chuggington." One of the trains on the show is "Rooster." Apparantly, those are both hilarious words to say together. In the backseat, over and over again, Tyson would yell "Wooster! Tuggington!" and then let out an infectious belly laugh. It's happened a few times with random words and it is just too funny to forget.

I so love my silly boys.

Christmas "preview"

Here is a preview of Christmas pics to come...

"understanding" death

While it's very possible that no one reads this blog anymore, I still want to chronicle some of our day-to-day life with our two crazy angelic boys, so here it is.

The other day, Bryce had picked Trevin up from preschool and one their way home, they passed a cemetery. On that day, there was a tractor, digging a hole for a grave.

As they passed, Trevin pointed it out and said "There's a tractor. That's silly."
Bryce: Actually, it's kind of sad. It's digging a hole because somebody died.
Trevin: Oh, yeah. Falling into a hole is sad. We shouldn't fall into a hole daddy.
B: No, we shouldn't... [Insert explanation of what happens when we die - body and spirit]
T: (as if Bryce wasn't even talking) Maybe if we fall into a hole, the tractor will come and save us.

Merry Christmas from our fam to yours!

Happy Halloween from the jungle!

The irrational fear

Guitars.

Who knew that guitars could be SO scary?

Well, they are. Terrifying, in fact. Just ask my 19 month old.

(Yes, Grandma and Grandpa bought the boys cowboy boots...
Tyson insists on wearing his when we go to their house.
Speaking of irrational fears...
Though, I suppose they are pretty cute.)

We became aware of this fear a few months back when we were at Auntie Erin's house. Erin has a guitar. When Tyson saw it, he exclaimed, "'tar! 'tar!" He seemed so excited that Erin promptly picked up the guitar and began to strum (rather nicely, I should add). Tyson quickly backed away and let out a panicked cry, as in "get me away from this horrible instrument of terror." Erin stopped playing and he was fine again.

This happened a few more times at her house and we just thought that if we could get him used to the guitar, it would be okay. He hasn't quite seemed to warm up to it, yet, but I kind of felt like we were getting there.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday was chapel at Trevin's preschool. On the first day of school, we walked into the sanctuary and a guitar was on a stand in the front. Tyson responded with the usual pointing and "'tar! 'tar!" I thought, Oh neat, the pastor's going to play the guitar. That will be fun. I bet the kids will love it, completely forgetting Tyson's fear.

As we sat and listened to the pastor's welcome, the boys were quiet. Then, as the pastor welcomed the preschoolers to come up to the front of the sanctuary to join him for some singing, he picked up the guitar. And I thought my baby had been seriously injured.

As timid preschoolers, including Trevin, were leaving their mommies and heading to the front, Tyson was crying a panicked cry like I had never heard from him before. It was as if we had left him at the mercy of some wild beast and he had nothing to do but scream. He was terrified. And it was the guitar.

I promptly exited the sanctuary so not to disturb the already nervous kiddos (and some parents, I'm sure). Each time I tried to step closer into the sanctuary, thinking Tyson was calm enough, he'd cry again. His breathing was fast, his body was shaking.

Poor Trevin, he was so brave to be up front by himself and I could see the slight look of panic as he searched the crowd of parents and I was nowhere nearby. When he saw me in the back, I could see the breath of relief.

Tyson eventually calmed down (a little) when the guitar found it's home on the stand and the chapel festivities were through.

Looks like Tyson and I may be skipping chapel this year...