This house is really noisy.
I know what you are thinking. I have kids, of course it would be noisy. I'm going to stop you there as I'm pretty sure that you're not even close to understanding what I mean...
All three kids seem to have been blessed with my vocal cords, leather lungs and ability to project my voice. Fact. They are all busy little people with very imaginative minds. Fact. What isn't apparent when you first meet my kids is that they are really like us. Very much so. You see, individually, each of them is pretty quiet. They will play nicely, occasionally (yet quietly) bringing something over for your scrutiny. We used to have a lot of that around here BK (Before Kids). Entire days would pass where we would only look up from our books with:
"Dinner?"
"Sure."
Now with kids, we're lucky if we can hear ourselves think. When you have more than one together in the room, the noise level doubles as they are trying to drown each other out. Add the third one and it doubles again. I've managed to develop some kind of expressive aphasia where at certain points of the day all I can offer up is nonsensical syllabic grunting - which rarely gets heard over the din.
It's not that surprising that it is loud around here, actually. "Quiet Wyatt" is quiet no more. His expressions, his ability to communicate clearly his wants and needs has simply exploded in the last little while. He has quite a range and is pretty understandable, even if you are not used to him. Besides his babbling, he uses a lot of different sounds to get his point across. He can yell (what sounds suspiciously like) "HEY" at you to get your attention and when he wants to talk to you, he babbles emotively with much expression. If he is trying to tell you something important, he will grab your hand or shirt and pull you forward, just to emphasize a point. He screeches in delight and frequently has babbling arguments which go back and forth between him and his twin sister Zoe. He will also say (what sounds suspiciously like) "yay!" when he "claps". He is working on learning to clap, but in the meantime, like everything else, he has his own adaptation. Instead of bringing his palms together, he holds his hands up high and while waving them back and forth, taps them together. It is the cutest thing ever.
We have been trying to teach him sign language for a while now (that's supposed to be quiet, isn't it?); you may remember our stellar "mum mum" moment. As I predicted then, we haven't seen it since. He has learned one definitive sign however, that he can do spontaneously: Da da. With a spread hand, he taps his forehead with his thumb and grins a toothy grin at the smile it puts on his father's face. We are working on "more" and "milk" and a few other staples. Zoe will still use the sign for "more", but is more comfortable with her own point and "Ah! Ta-ta-ta-da-da", at the end of which she folds her hands and looks at you expectantly. I have seen her repeat it 10 times in a row, getting a little more insistent each time until you figure out what it is she wants. Then there is a mighty screech of joy and much bouncing.
There is also some progress on the teething front. The whole teething thing in general makes tempers short, sleeping difficult and voices generally louder. It's pretty rough on the kids too. In any event, if you are following along with the Logan tooth tally: Zoe is at +13 (and working on 14, 15 and 16), Wyatt is at +4 (and working on a whole bunch I think, given that his hand is always in his mouth and the front of his shirt is always damp) and Quinn is still at +3 adult, -1 baby tooth. Mommy, if you are keeping score, is now at +1 root canal, +1 temporary filling. I go back on Thursday. I should just own stock in Tylenol... at this point as there is nothing like going to the drugstore and picking up teef drugs in two different forms for the kids and myself.
With the increased number of teeth comes more difficult textures to chew, which is great as it cuts down on the "special for the babies" portion of the cooking day. Which is another good thing as both of them are right in the middle of the "gravity is fun" stage and "when I am done with this, I will throw it on the floor". To be fair, every child goes through this. Quinn did... for the longest time I had to hang around and wait for the precise moment to remove his plate or bowl before it would Frisbee across the room and dump it's contents all over the carpet (the cat, my head... whatever). That was many years, pets, kids and apartments ago; now we live in a house with a light laminate floor in the kitchen. It is pretty easy to clean which is it's only saving grace at the moment as it shows every little piece of dirt. After every meal it looks like the streets of Valencia after the Tomatina as there is bits of discarded yuck everywhere. Without getting too much into the sippy cup debate (as that is a topic for another day), both of them are currently using one and have been pretty exclusively for the last couple of months. I firmly place the blame on Zoe for this one... once she is done with that too, *thump* it goes on the floor. Oh, it may be half full and she will want more in a minute, but for now it is a liquid filled cannon ball headed for our toes. Wyatt in the meantime, is quietly watching all of this from across the table. Imagine our (not so) surprise sometime later when *thump!* he did the same thing with a giant grin on his face. Now we have two babies to try and get to unlearn a behaviour... is it any wonder I'm not keen on the whole transition-to-a-cup thing?
The food fight goes a little beyond gravity as well. Now that they are older, both are starting to show perferences. Wyatt loves, and I mean LOVES all fruit, veggies and meat. Cookies? Meh. I'll eat it. Zoe however, has distinct likes and dislikes... which have nothing to do with food groups or flavours, but everything to do with portions and shapes. As it stands now, Zoe will not eat anything round. That includes grapes, cherry tomatoes, cut cherries, blueberries, peas and meatballs. The size of the sphere does not matter, it's all in the shape. It is getting a little better now as I have showed her how to squish round things with her teeth (which has some play value), but here is a vid from July of her systematically destroying all her peas.
The portion preference is a little surprising, actually. It's not so much that she doesn't like a particular food item, it's whether it is the appropriate size. If the tidbit is too small, it will be discarded immediately. A few weeks ago, after an exhausting day of Mental Health in the ER (one of those days where I can barely speak by the time I get home), we opted for The Colonel. We don't eat junk like this often, so it is really a treat for everyone; we cut up some small skinless bits for the babies. Wyatt, naturally, loved his and wanted more. Zoe almost immediately began dropping hers. My husband and I shrugged at each other and continued on with our meal. I had no concept of time by this point, but I remember reaching for another piece and looking up to see Zoe frantically gesticulating and "Ah! At-ta-ta-da-da!"-ing at the bucket. I tipped it up so she could see and sure enough, she wanted chicken. That is how this happened:
(My apologies for the lighting and expressive aphasia. It was late, I was tired...)
So, there you have it. Giant slabs of meat: good. Round things: bad. I am going to have a hard time keeping up with that one.
Noise and mess. Yep, that's it in a nutshell. I'm not complaining too loudly mind you, as there is a lot of other good things that come out of both. We had a rule growing up about not singing at the table; that is one that we have gleefully thrown out the window. There is a lot of song in our house and the dinner table is no exception. Two nights ago, during a particularly messy go at getting nutrients into the children, I was explaining to Sean that Wyatt's clapping was becoming more spontaneous. He didn't believe me right away, so I broke into "If You're Happy and You Know It".
All kids love that song. Once they figure it out, there is no going back; they can't help but clap. It's particularly useful for kids like Quinn, who when he was smaller, thought it was great sport to hide on his parents. I learned pretty fast that once I decided I couldn't find him I would start singing: "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!" and listen carefully. The quiet 'clap-clap' always gave his position away. Anyway, last night I started singing it at the dinner table and sure enough, Wyatt joined in with his wave-bump. It was amazing. The family had a rousing round of clap your hands, stomp your feet, shout hooray and do all three, during which Wyatt would say "Yay!" and clap. When I was done, I looked around at the bits of food stuck to the table, the walls, the kids, the floor and in my hair. For a brief moment I thought "maybe we should pick another song the next time, perhaps one that is a little less active". Naw, I thought, shooting my own idea down, it wouldn't be as near as fun.
My kids are my pride and joy, that is for sure. I've had to become a little zen about the debris that they leave in their wake. I know I will have a clean house again one day... sadly, it will be at a point where very little happens in it. They will be off doing grown up things and I will be at home, in my silent clean house, pining for the days of little bare feet thumping across the hardwood and sticky jam kisses. That day will come. For now, I'll find the joy in the noise and the mess as I know it will not last forever. Hell, I might even make a little bit of both of my own.
Don't forget to vote for Down Wit Dat on Circle of Moms. You can vote once a day, every day until October 11th!
I know what you are thinking. I have kids, of course it would be noisy. I'm going to stop you there as I'm pretty sure that you're not even close to understanding what I mean...
All three kids seem to have been blessed with my vocal cords, leather lungs and ability to project my voice. Fact. They are all busy little people with very imaginative minds. Fact. What isn't apparent when you first meet my kids is that they are really like us. Very much so. You see, individually, each of them is pretty quiet. They will play nicely, occasionally (yet quietly) bringing something over for your scrutiny. We used to have a lot of that around here BK (Before Kids). Entire days would pass where we would only look up from our books with:
"Dinner?"
"Sure."
Now with kids, we're lucky if we can hear ourselves think. When you have more than one together in the room, the noise level doubles as they are trying to drown each other out. Add the third one and it doubles again. I've managed to develop some kind of expressive aphasia where at certain points of the day all I can offer up is nonsensical syllabic grunting - which rarely gets heard over the din.
 |
| Keeping my fingies in here helps amplify sound. Tis true. Every word of it. |
We have been trying to teach him sign language for a while now (that's supposed to be quiet, isn't it?); you may remember our stellar "mum mum" moment. As I predicted then, we haven't seen it since. He has learned one definitive sign however, that he can do spontaneously: Da da. With a spread hand, he taps his forehead with his thumb and grins a toothy grin at the smile it puts on his father's face. We are working on "more" and "milk" and a few other staples. Zoe will still use the sign for "more", but is more comfortable with her own point and "Ah! Ta-ta-ta-da-da", at the end of which she folds her hands and looks at you expectantly. I have seen her repeat it 10 times in a row, getting a little more insistent each time until you figure out what it is she wants. Then there is a mighty screech of joy and much bouncing.
 |
| Brothers: One can't stop chewing and the other can't stop smiling. |
There is also some progress on the teething front. The whole teething thing in general makes tempers short, sleeping difficult and voices generally louder. It's pretty rough on the kids too. In any event, if you are following along with the Logan tooth tally: Zoe is at +13 (and working on 14, 15 and 16), Wyatt is at +4 (and working on a whole bunch I think, given that his hand is always in his mouth and the front of his shirt is always damp) and Quinn is still at +3 adult, -1 baby tooth. Mommy, if you are keeping score, is now at +1 root canal, +1 temporary filling. I go back on Thursday. I should just own stock in Tylenol... at this point as there is nothing like going to the drugstore and picking up teef drugs in two different forms for the kids and myself.
 |
| La Tomatina... or in my house, "dinner". |
The food fight goes a little beyond gravity as well. Now that they are older, both are starting to show perferences. Wyatt loves, and I mean LOVES all fruit, veggies and meat. Cookies? Meh. I'll eat it. Zoe however, has distinct likes and dislikes... which have nothing to do with food groups or flavours, but everything to do with portions and shapes. As it stands now, Zoe will not eat anything round. That includes grapes, cherry tomatoes, cut cherries, blueberries, peas and meatballs. The size of the sphere does not matter, it's all in the shape. It is getting a little better now as I have showed her how to squish round things with her teeth (which has some play value), but here is a vid from July of her systematically destroying all her peas.
Must... squish... all... peas!
The portion preference is a little surprising, actually. It's not so much that she doesn't like a particular food item, it's whether it is the appropriate size. If the tidbit is too small, it will be discarded immediately. A few weeks ago, after an exhausting day of Mental Health in the ER (one of those days where I can barely speak by the time I get home), we opted for The Colonel. We don't eat junk like this often, so it is really a treat for everyone; we cut up some small skinless bits for the babies. Wyatt, naturally, loved his and wanted more. Zoe almost immediately began dropping hers. My husband and I shrugged at each other and continued on with our meal. I had no concept of time by this point, but I remember reaching for another piece and looking up to see Zoe frantically gesticulating and "Ah! At-ta-ta-da-da!"-ing at the bucket. I tipped it up so she could see and sure enough, she wanted chicken. That is how this happened:
Say "bye-bye" yourself... I'm busy eating
(My apologies for the lighting and expressive aphasia. It was late, I was tired...)
So, there you have it. Giant slabs of meat: good. Round things: bad. I am going to have a hard time keeping up with that one.
Noise and mess. Yep, that's it in a nutshell. I'm not complaining too loudly mind you, as there is a lot of other good things that come out of both. We had a rule growing up about not singing at the table; that is one that we have gleefully thrown out the window. There is a lot of song in our house and the dinner table is no exception. Two nights ago, during a particularly messy go at getting nutrients into the children, I was explaining to Sean that Wyatt's clapping was becoming more spontaneous. He didn't believe me right away, so I broke into "If You're Happy and You Know It".
All kids love that song. Once they figure it out, there is no going back; they can't help but clap. It's particularly useful for kids like Quinn, who when he was smaller, thought it was great sport to hide on his parents. I learned pretty fast that once I decided I couldn't find him I would start singing: "If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!" and listen carefully. The quiet 'clap-clap' always gave his position away. Anyway, last night I started singing it at the dinner table and sure enough, Wyatt joined in with his wave-bump. It was amazing. The family had a rousing round of clap your hands, stomp your feet, shout hooray and do all three, during which Wyatt would say "Yay!" and clap. When I was done, I looked around at the bits of food stuck to the table, the walls, the kids, the floor and in my hair. For a brief moment I thought "maybe we should pick another song the next time, perhaps one that is a little less active". Naw, I thought, shooting my own idea down, it wouldn't be as near as fun.
My kids are my pride and joy, that is for sure. I've had to become a little zen about the debris that they leave in their wake. I know I will have a clean house again one day... sadly, it will be at a point where very little happens in it. They will be off doing grown up things and I will be at home, in my silent clean house, pining for the days of little bare feet thumping across the hardwood and sticky jam kisses. That day will come. For now, I'll find the joy in the noise and the mess as I know it will not last forever. Hell, I might even make a little bit of both of my own.
Don't forget to vote for Down Wit Dat on Circle of Moms. You can vote once a day, every day until October 11th!
 |
| Click here to vote for Down Wit Dat!! |
What cuties! I can't imagine what my house will be like without all the noise and mess.
ReplyDeleteMe either. :)
DeleteDebris, memories. It's all about perspective writes the woman who would drown in a massive sea of her own used kleenex if someone else didn't put them in the trash...
ReplyDelete:)
Delete