Jonas?

This morning, Jonas woke up as a different dude.

He was British: "Mum, I want to go to the sea side. Can we go on holiday?"

Too much Peppa Pig, perhaps?

He said that BLUE was his favorite color. Now, I realize that blue is the best color, but he's a PURPLE man!

Lastly, he's turned coldhearted toward his dear Mother. We all know that Jonas is naturally a little cold, I mean, he earned the name Jonasty. But he's always been a Mama's boy. Sigh...hear it for yourselves, folks. The dude just wants a pet.

Down in My Back

Being a Mother is such a beautiful thing, but, man does it exhaust a woman. Those little firecrackers of mine wear me out--physically and mentally. I am currently laying in bed with a heating pad. My poor ole back hasn't been the same since I had to haul those two around for nine months. (When they are older, this will be great material for a nice guilt trip.) Of course, running around on all fours, chasing after them and roaring doesn't help my back either. Oh well, we have fun, even if I do pay for it later.

Here is a question for all of you parents out there (or non-parents for that matter): Am I the only one who plays out horrific scenarios in my mind when I hear or do not hear a noise from another room when I am the only person (adult) in the house?

Examples: When I am home with my boys and they begin to play cars or read books or watch Daniel Tiger or otherwise amuse themselves, I sneak off to the kitchen to clean. I will be in there loading the dishwasher when all of a sudden...

I hear a shriek. Now, in the 5 seconds it takes me to open the baby gate and get to the living room to the children, in my mind, Julian/Jonas are screaming in pain, lying on the floor with a broken arm, and I am going to have to somehow pull myself together to take the injured to the hospital. "What will I do if there's blood? What if I pass out and they are hurt and all alone? I'm going to throw up!!!!!!!!"

Finally, I reach the living room. Julian was the shrieker.  The issue: His brother had a big plastic spoon and he didn't. The horror! The horror!

OR

I hear nothing. "It is awfully quiet in there. I better go check on them!" And in the 5 seconds it takes me to get to them, I've already envisioned some bastard breaking into my home and trying to steal my babies. Whereupon, I reach for the closest weapon available, which just so happens to be one of Doug's enormous flashlights. And then I beat the tar out of that dude and rescue my children. Mama Bear will destroy you, punk!

Finally, I reach the living room. Julian is laying on the couch watching Curious George, and The Bear is reading.

Toys for Twins

The boys will be turning 1 soon...too soon...as in next month! Oh Lord, can you believe we have survived a year? Anyway, I want to ask something of you, my friends. If you plan on buying these dudes a birthday present (which isn't necessary, obviously) consider the following:

1. How annoying is the music/sirens/flashing lights? Will I blow my brains out after hearing it play on a continuous loop?
2. Is it something that can be fashioned into a weapon? Brothers like to knock each other over the head with toys.
3. Is it really cool? Buy two. Please. I beg of you. The exact same thing. When toys are involved, twins do not have individual personalities. They are the same. They want the same. If they don't get the same, it is the mother who suffers.

That is all. Carry on.

Now I have, "Carry on, my wayward sooooon! They'll be peace when you are doooonnee!" stuck in my head. Jamming tune.

Things Fall Apart

The Bear Named Joe.

On Sunday, I went to see a play (Sylvia) starring my homie, Tasha (as Sylvia, a dog)! She was fabulous in this show--there was singing, comedy, and lots of strong language. Now, as you know, I am not in the least bit offended by cuss words, hell, I have even been known to say a few in the heat of the moment. However, one thing that does make me uncomfortable is watching shows laden with adult content with old people (gives me flashbacks of when Beetle asked me what the "C---" word was; if it's up to me, Mommaw, you will never know!). Mommaws and Papaws ought not be saying bad words or laughing at dirty jokes. Well, children, let me tell you...my friends and I were the youngest people in the audience, everyone else (50+) were senior citizens, and they were CRACKING UP! I thought this old dude in front of me was going to keel over when Sylvia (aka TBo) called a cat an effer. And you should have heard the roar of the elderly crowd when Sylvia was in heat and met up with ole Bowser. Hysterical. Old people are so wild.

Anywho, while I was at the show, Doogie was at home with the boys. He even got to feed them (his favorite). Four hours later, I returned home and went to scoop up my babies to smother them with kisses. Jonas had something on his eyebrow. It was squash. "This kid has squash on his eyebrow. Why didn't you wipe his face off?" "I didn't notice it til we were at Target." He took my poor child out in public with squash eyebrows. "I forgot the blue bag." Also known as the diaper bag. What would've happened if one of them had had a Brown Saturday episode? "Things fall apart quickly when Dad is in charge." 

Oh, so, Jules can totally crawl now (yippee...I think). Joe still army crawls, but he is a fast army

Precious.

crawler. They get into everything they can. They fight, constantly. It is impossible to dress them. They've found a "new toy" at bath time. They hold hands when in their high chairs. They smile and laugh at each other, and also check with each other when something funny happens to see if the other laughs. They are starting to eat table foods, despite having no teeth (they even had some oyster crackers and shredded cheese at Skyline)!  And, they are basically the cutest, most awesome dudes ever to live.

They're gonna be 1 in less than 3 months. That blows my mind. I have been perusing the interwebs for cool party ideas (because, you know, they completely know what is going on and will definitely remember their 1st birthday party). At any rate, I got this bright idea that I could get dinosaur board books for party favors (of course the party will be dinosaur themed). So, off to google I go. A book pops up and I think I have hit the mother load! SHAKESPEARASAURUS! Are you serious?! A Shakespeare inspired dinosaur book?! This definitely has to be purchased for my children!!! I click on the thumbnail to take a better gander at the book I am mere seconds away from purchasing in mass quantities and my hopes are dashed. SHAPEASAURUS. A dumb book about shapes. Son of a!

Brothers fighting.

Brothers playing.

It's Such a Good Feeling

Jonas eating a strawberry.

When I type Dacian's name in a text message, the phone auto-corrects it to "fascism"  or "dachshund."

Last weekend when we were in Dwarf, the boys got a visit from some of their cousins, and they brought the little guys a few presents. One of these gifts was a fresh food feeder--they look like pacifiers but the end is mesh and you're supposed to put fruit or ice cubes or whatever in there and the babies can gnaw on it without the fear of choking. Well, when the babysitter (who is around 70) saw these contraptions, she said, "I remember these. My Mommy gave us something like this when we were kids. She called them sugar tits."

I think my children are destined to be warped or confused or maybe I am just training them to be stellar at trivia. Tonight, after I fed the boys, I reflected back to everything we had discussed over dinner (read: what I said to them while I tried to shove food in their little mouths). References included:

The Godfather: I know it was you, Jonas, and you broke my heart!

Shakespeare's Julius Caesar (to Jules aka Hogwarts aka the good eater, who at the time was refusing to eat): Et tu, Jules? Then fall Mommy.

Jules being awesome.

Bruno Mars: His eyes, his eyes, make the stars look like they're not shinin'!

Nickelodeon's Catdog + Si Robertson: Hey, Jack. Did you boys know that one fine day with a woof and a purr a baby was born that caused a little stir. Hey, look here! Weren't no blue bug, no 3-eyed frog, just a feline canine little catdog.

I even tried to speak some espanol: Open your mouth! Abrir!

Then I wondered if abrir actually means "to open."

And we ended dinner as we always do, "I like you just the way you are!"