Play Pens

So far, my kids have never been ones to play with their toys. They find that the Tupperware cupboard or rolls of toilet paper are much more fun. We have baskets full, drawer fulls, closets full of toys, and on most days they go untouched. I have no idea why. We have great toys, but for some reason, old spray bottles, Austin’s sandals, and cardboard boxes provide them the most entertainment.

Not only do the boys not really play with their toys, they play in the most peculiar spots around the house…especially Wyatt. He loves playing beneath the clothes in our closet that hang on the lower rung and barely skim the floor. I will find him back there with my brushes or race cars doing who knows what. He loves to climb on top of Dax’s train table in his room and play King Kong and destroy the entire train city. Then he will sit up their easily for a half hour (as long as Dax isn’t around). He’s mastered climbing onto the couch and crawls to the corner of the sectional where he lounges amidst all the fluffy pillows and looks around like we should be fanning him and feeding him grapes because of his wonderful accomplishment. Whenever we go outside in the back he beelines it to Austin’s beautiful garden, climbs over the three story high brick pavers and plants himself right next to the tomato plant with a shovel. It’s the tomato plant every time. Forget the lettuce or cilantro. Just the tomatoes. Oddly enough he has never once tried to pull off the cute green tomatoes growing or the yellow flowers that are budding. He just sits in the dirt and digs. He loves to play under the kitchen table, behind my easel floor mirror, under the desk while I work, behind the side table in the den. I’m starting to realize it may just be any spot his brother might find it hard to get to him.

I find all these play spots endearing. He is so charming and happy and content and it’s fun to watch to see what he does.

Nevertheless, there is one spot in the house that he tries to get to multiple times a day and keeping him out of it has become the vain of my existence. He screams and yells and turns red in the face trying to get out of my arms when he wants this spot. He is getting so fast and sometimes I don’t even have time to get to him before it’s all over. It’s becoming quite the power struggle between the two of us and what’s even worse is Dax thinks it’s the funniest thing and that just encourages Wyatt even more.

Yup, the bathroom sink. What is it about a porcelain bowl with a plug that is so appealing? Maybe it's the monumental task it takes to get in it, which he has mastered to do in 3 seconds. Maybe it's the pump soap bottle he's after, that if you notice, is completely empty thanks to Wyatt. Maybe it's the perfect size and roundness for his little legs and bum to fit in comfortably. Maybe it's the mirror he gets to laugh into when he sees himself.

Whatever it is, I thought it was cute for a second.

Until he figured out how to turn on the water.

Imagine

The world is but a canvas to our imagination. Henry David Thoreau

This is Dax's world...

He’s been riding his bike and has gotten stuck in the “mud”. “Help! I’m stuck in the mud!” Wyatt and I get to rescue him.

He’s trapped a baby armadillo in a “rubby cave”. I’m not quite sure what a rubby cave is yet, but luckily I get to feed the armadillo.

He’s “lassoed” everything around him with a shoe string, including me and his brother.

He’s rode along the lawn and back a million times in his Little Coupe car to “deliver the mail.” I even got a “Balentine’s”.

He’s “killed those bugs” as an exterminator with his spray bottle of water. I get to go pretend to be grossed out as I examine the plastic scorpion, spider, snake, and frog he’s planted in the grass.

He informs me every time he sees a plane in the sky with the white line of clouds trailing behind that it’s “Spider-man.” And I get to play along and tell him that he’s off to save someone. He thinks that’s a pretty good answer.

He’s turned into a pirate on a treasure hunt for “quarters”. That’s an awfully important treasure to find.

He’s lined up all the kitchen chairs and used Tupperware lids as tires and screams, “All Aboard!” I get to climb in and take a free train ride.

He’s cooked up some “pizza” with his big, white mixing bowl, wooden spoon, and yummy Hot Wheels. Best pizza I ever tasted.

He runs around the house screaming because the “monster” is going to get him. A few seconds later it’s Wyatt coming down the hall with his snotty, runny nose laughing his head off.

Dax’s imagination has taken off. Like Thoreau said, the world truly is a blank canvas to our imagination.


I love being apart of Dax’s imaginary world.

Maybe

Maybe last week was a fluke ---

Because this week we’re alright.

Maybe it has something to do with getting over our colds and glorious 85 degree weather.

Regardless, I couldn't possibly loves these two more. Chocolate cookie faces and all.

Friends. And enemy.

Meet some of Wyatt’s friends. Garrett (on the left), James (on the right), and Bennett (not pictured---he was trying to nap) are some of Wyatt’s bestest friends. These cute boys all live in our neighborhood and they are all less than 6 weeks apart. They are adorable and their moms are some of my dearest friends. Wyatt loves them all. They play with him, share with him, babble back and forth with him. He is so lucky to have such cute friends.

Because right now, Dax is not Wyatt’s friend.

Dax can be the best big brother. He tells me several times a day he loves Wyatt. He gives Wyatt kisses, hands him toys when Wyatt doesn’t have one to play with, and is always good about sharing snacks. He can be so sweet. Still, these random acts of kindness are few and far between. The rest of the day consist of some major fights between the boys, meltdowns, tantrums, hitting, bad tempers…you name it.

And lots and lots of tears; by all of us.

Dax can be so mean. Mean like taking a spatula and whopping Wyatt on the head. Mean like kicking Wyatt over when he walks by him. Mean like grabbing the toy out of Wyatt’s hand and chucking it across the room. It’s horrible. It’s uncalled for. And it makes me so sad.

Don’t get me wrong, Wyatt does his fair share of getting in Dax’s way. He messes up all the train tracks that Dax spent hours connecting to make the perfect route for his Thomas. He comes in like Godzilla and stomps all over Dax’s perfectly lined cars. He knocks down towers of checkers, blocks, Legos. Wyatt obviously doesn’t know any better, but in the eyes of a three year old, he's nothing more than a big pain.

As for me, I don’t know how to deal. I’ve tried to separate them. I’ve tried to let the two of them work it out and not interfere. I've tried time out. I’ve tried to have Dax do three nice things for Wyatt for every one mean thing he does. I’ve threaten to hit back, which I can never bring myself to do. I count to ten, I take deep breaths. I’ve screamed, I’ve yelled, I’ve cried.

And I still don’t know what to do.

Please help! Tell me this is just a phase. Tell me it gets better. Tell me they realize that they are so lucky to have each other and they are each other’s best friend. Tell me that Dax realizes that he should protect his little brother and stand up for him. Tell me Wyatt realizes his job isn’t to torment and agonize his older brother. Tell me one day this all stops. Tell me what to do.

Pine

I haven’t seen snow since the day we drove away from our house in Lehi. As Dax, who was the same age as Wyatt is now, and I followed Austin in the Uhaul and waved goodbye to our house, friends, family and all the snow still falling in late March, I never thought for a second I would miss it. No more sitting in the car for minutes waiting for it to heat up, no more crappy roads to drive on, no more layers and layers of clothes and no more shoveling driveways. Nope, I wouldn’t miss it one bit.

Until this weekend.

Some good friends of ours invited us up their cabin about 100 miles away in Pine. Who knew there was so much snow in Arizona in only a short hour and a half drive? The cabin was gorgeous, as always, the snow was beautiful, the company was great, and the memories were priceless. I think I would have had a lot more fun during those long winter months in Utah had Dax been older. And perhaps I may not be ready to move to a state with months staying below freezing, it definitely is worth a few road trips a couple of weekends out of the year. Thanks Greenwald’s for a wonderful Valentine’s weekend!

Attached

There are quite a few similarities I have noticed between Wyatt and when Dax was this age. Wyatt loves to be outside, just like Dax did. Thankfully in AZ we can let Wyatt roam the backyard during the “cold” months of January and February where as Dax would just cried at the sliding glass door staring at all the falling Utah snow. Wyatt has an extremely hearty appetite, just like Dax did. You can’t get food to Wyatt fast enough. And forget trying to eat yourself. You’re too busy replenishing the tray for him to get any food in your mouth. They make the same facial expressions, have the same mannerisms, jibber and jabber the same, get oh so frustrated when they can’t do something, are about the same size, sound the same when they cry or giggle, and still, even at well over a year, Wyatt has the same 6 teeth that Dax did.

All this really doesn’t really mean anything. Except that yesterday I realized something about Wyatt that I never ever did with Dax.

And it totally hit me.

Wyatt is attached.

No, not to me. To his Lion. And the funny thing is, it isn’t even Wyatt’s Lion, it’s Dax’s.

My mom gives each of her grand babies a little stuffed animal when they are born. Each grandchild has a different animal. I have no idea where she finds such cute animals, but she does. She is an avid believer that babies need “friends” with them in their crib. Dax got a Lion. Wyatt got a Tiger. Somehow Wyatt has adopted Dax’s Lion. And he is attached.

We had left Wyatt’s Tiger over at his grandma and grandpas when he was a baby, so to make sure he had a “friend” we put Dax’s Lion in Wyatt’s crib. It was weeks before we remembered to get the Tiger back, but it was too late. Wyatt and Lion had already bonded. Now that the Tiger is back, he gets no attention (my mom would be sad about that). When we put Wyatt in his crib, he lunges for his Lion. He turns him around and around until he finds his tail, tickles it under his nose, and lays down. Every night we go in to kiss Wyatt good night his little hand is still clutched around the Lion’s tail.

I knew Wyatt loved this Lion, but I had no idea he was attached. He woke up sad from his nap the other day and when I went in to get him, he was tightly holding onto the Lion’s tail. I unclenched the Lion from Wyatt’s death grip before I picked him up. The Lion has always stayed in his crib. I mean seriously, this Lion doesn’t even have a more clever name than “Lion”. Who would have thought Wyatt was so attached? Well, when I unclenched his little hand it about broke his heart. He completely melted down and cried the biggest tears I had ever seen. I quickly panicked and handed him his Lion. For the next half hour he walked around the house without moving one finger from the Lion’s tail.

Dax loved this Lion, but not as much as Wyatt. He is so well loved by Wyatt. We’ve washed him several times and his cute spiky hair is now one matted down mane. His pink nose is almost no longer, his soft plushy fur is weathered and worn and his eyes are scratched. I had no idea he was so attached. Come to think of it, I have noticed Wyatt trying to reach through the slats into his crib to retrieve the Lion, I just didn’t think anything of it.

Yes, he is attached. And right now I think it is so adorably cute the way he lugs his Lion around. So, today, it is cute.

I just dread the day it stops being cute.

Hooray!

Hooray for big blue eyes!

Hooray for adventure!

Hooray for determination! Hooray for blond blond hair! Hooray for cute smiles!
And it’s official….
Hooray for walking (and drool and dirty jeans)!

Dax

Are there certain things you knew about your children from very early on? Traits, characteristics, habits, that you noticed at an early age that have definitely come to pass? My mom has always told me that I am a very “piggy” eater. When I was younger, or so the story goes, I was apparently always the messier twin when I ate, and she knew it right off the bat. Truth be told, even still I am not extremely lady-like when sitting down for meals. I can’t help it, I like my food! But, maybe your daughter has never been afraid of dogs, so you know that she will always have a love for animals….and want to adopt them all. Or maybe your son picked up a crayon and stayed in-between the lines before he could walk in a straight line, so you just know he is going to be an artist.

I have had those thoughts about my own children. Before Dax was walking he was running, and with the in toeing of his little feet, I just know he is going to be the fastest forward, quickest running back, speediest sprinter ever. He can hit a baseball off a tee with a perfect swing. He just has the athleticism in him. And Wyatt, he has always loved his food like his momma. He puts fistfuls, fistfuls, of food in his mouth at a time. I have never worried about him going hungry. I know he will always have a healthy appetite, and maybe a passion for culinary. Both the boys love the water and it’s a good thing we live in AZ where we can spend our long summer days swimming. I love watching the boys learn and grow passionate about new things and then let my imagination take off and dream all these wonderful dreams for them.

But, there’s one thing I’ve noticed about Dax that frightens me. It’s come up these past few months, and even others who have heard him talk this way have expressed their concern.

You see, when we go anywhere in the car he thinks we’re a racecar. Not just any racecar. A famous racecar. He tells me, “Go faster momma! You gotta catch that black one!”, and frantically points out his window at the black car that has pulled slightly ahead of us. I try to explain to him the “law”, but that makes no sense to a three-year old. He incessantly explains the traffic rules to me. “Go mom! Green means go! Go faster”. He doesn’t care that there are 3 cars in front of us forcing me to go 35mph. And heaven forbid I stop at a green light in the left hand turn lane to yield to oncoming traffic. He about looses it.

I think in his head he believes we’re Lightening McQueen, the “famous racecar”, and every time we get on the road, it’s actually a racetrack. I tell him we need to watch for little boys and girls playing in the street and be careful of all the other cars. Then he says, “We will crash and flip over on our heads and that will be cool.” and I can see him picturing the part in the movie where Mr. the King crashes (but is okay) and Lightening helps him to the finish line. I tell him, “Crashing and flipping on our heads would be scary, and that would not be good, not cool.” And he says, “Oh” like I have no idea what I am talking about and he has a much better idea of what is cool than his lame mom.

So, this is a warning. It’s one of these early traits that I see in my child and I am counseling all of you. If you plan on being on the road 13 years from now…watch out.

Dax is going to be a "famous racecar".

Childhood favorites

When I moved out after high school, like most kids who move out, was asked to pack up my bedroom and throw away anything I didn’t want. Boxes full of childhood and high school memories, yearbooks, sports awards, clothing, souvenirs from unforgettable trips, hundreds and hundreds of pictures was boxed up. Everything that meant so much stayed stored away in my parents garage for years. My boxes moved from my childhood home on Denvale Circle to my parents next home for less then two years on Almelo. Then when my parents decided to move to Arizona the summer after I got married, my boxes officially became “my boxes”. My parents took a trip out to Utah before their big move and brought me all my things that meant so much to me. Since then, those piles of boxes have dwindled down to two. One still full of wonderful memories, the other with my childhood babies, dolls and blankets.

I can remember playing with each one of those dolls that I kept. I can picture, strapping in the twin dolls, one wearing pink, the other blue, just like my sister and I, into their mini plastic stroller, the birth certificate that goes along with Margaret Edna, my first Cabbage Patch that dons the name of my mother, the little fawn I was given by my Aunt Karen when I was born, and the beautifully red and yellow crocheted clothes and bonnet that my Grandma Cobb made for one of my first baby dolls.

I have dreamed one day of getting these out of storage where they lie in a zipped-up old plastic bag that a quilt of mine was once purchased in, and down for a little girl of my own to play with.

So far, no little girls of my own.

Austin had his own version of “my boxes”. He has hundreds, probably thousands of baseball cards out in our garage. He has just as many comic books out there too. And let’s not forget, every single letter he received on his mission. Why? I asked the same question. I finally convinced him that he didn't need all the letters.

As we were digging through box after box, I ran across the one thing he had kept for a little boy of his own to play with one day. I collected them all, gave them a quick clean, and put them in a safe spot for a few months. At the time they were too little to have out with Wyatt beginning to crawl and putting everything in his mouth.

Just the other day Dax found them in my safe spot. He pulled them out, and the magic worked on him just as Austin had said it did on him for hours throughout the day back in the 80’s. They were his very own, original Micro Machines.

Who would have thought that these tiny cars would be so much more fun to play with than the normal sized ones? Who would have guessed that Austin can still recite the fast talking commercial ending with, "If it doesn't say Micro machines, it's not the real thing". And who would have guessed that the two of them can still be little kids when playing with them? I love it!

What childhood favorites do you still have around your house that your kids love playing with??

Yee Haw Cowboy

“One. Two. Three. Lasso!!”

And this is what I heard for the next hour while Wyatt slept and I sewed curtain panels.

Except for the several times I “unlasso-ed” all that Dax “lassoed”…cats included. What kind of ranch do we live on??

Regardless, thank you soft tape measure for providing my child’s afternoon of blissful happiness. What would I have done without you!

My Brother and Me

Maybe it’s because Dax is now three. Maybe it’s because Wyatt is now one. Maybe it’s because it is a brand new year. Either way, these boys are growing up. And they are starting to be the best of buddies.

I have realized over the past few days just how well these two have been playing. It all came to me when I realized I had cleaned the entire kitchen, I’m talking floors swept, dishes loaded, oven and counter tops wiped down, table cleaned and even a head start on dinner, all without having to break up one wrestling match or utter any threatening words to either one of them. Over here, that’s pretty big news!

I have caught myself smiling listening to them play. They have taken turns racing their cars down the coveted 4-lane Hot Wheels tracks, Wyatt has been walking toward Dax’s open arms when he braves letting go of the couch instead of crawling away from Dax at lightening speed to avoid him. Dax has invited Wyatt to follow him outside to actually play with him rather than use him as a human hurdle to jump over in the grass. They have had their very own jam sessions with Dax on the guitar of course, and Wyatt beating on the drums courtesy of Santa. And, at the play area at the outdoor mall yesterday Dax proudly introduced his brother, who has passed the stage of happily sitting in the stroller and wants to be where all the action is, to all his “friends”. It was heart-warming to see the pride Dax had for his little buddy.

Then, I knew we had crossed a major mile stone when yesterday Dax expressed his true love to Wyatt. His new guitar from Santa plays the music to a lot of fun songs, from Smashmouth, to the B-52’s and the Police, to Dax’s favorite right now, Wild Thing. Dax is quickly picking up the words to the song and belted out for all to hear, “ Wyyyyyyatttt, I think I loooooooooveeeee yyyyyyou.” Cute, right? It definitely is a change of heart.

Now, my mind has gotten the best of me. I can’t help but envision camp outs in the back yard, forts being built in their room with every pillow and blanket in the house, Dax teaching Wyatt how to ride a bike and climb trees, the two playing cowboys and Indians and pretending to be pirates digging for hidden treasures. They are going to have so much fun together....

Just as soon as Wyatt starts walking.

Sedona, AZ

For Austin’s birthday I surprised him with a little getaway. We have never, ever spent a night away from the boys, but when better to make a trial run for our 8 days away coming this Spring, then to celebrate Austin’s 30th birthday? My mom offered to stay with the boys, so I thought it would be fun to go somewhere we have never been before and to plan something he has never done before. He did turn 30, right? Might as well be a little adventurous. So, I planned a little night away in Sedona, AZ.

Sedona is about 2 ½ hours north of us and is known as “Red Rock Country”. It’s a beautiful little town filled with art, history, adorable little shops, jewelry, and cozy restaurants with the backdrop of one of the most beautiful scenery's I have ever seen.

We had a wonderful dinner of prime rib and buffalo on Friday night, attempted to walk the main street, but got too cold, so relaxed in the hot tub instead. On Saturday morning we woke up and enjoyed a morning of off-roadin’. We toured the back canyons of Sedona in these hilarious pink jeeps that made it through some crazy descents over the red rocks and through passages where I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest. We were literally off of our seats with some of the trails. We took in Submarine Rock, Chicken Point, Eagle’s Nest, a natural fault line and a sink hole the size of a football stadium. It was definitely an adventure and the scenery was breathtaking.

I wish the trip wasn’t so short. We had such a great time and it reminded me why I feel in love with my husband. It was so nice to have uninterrupted conversations, each others undivided attention, and quality time together, even if it was just for a day. My mom said the boys never asked for us once. We might just have to sneak away more often if that’s the case!

No matter how you say it....

....Austin is the BIG three-oh!!

Happy Birthday babe! We love you!!

Yellow

Austin is wonderful at meeting someone and remembering their name. He amazes me! He does this little trick that I guess he learned on his mission. He has tried to explain it to me and it makes no sense at all. When we first began dating he met a room full of my extended relatives. I’m talking 2nd cousins, my dad’s aunts and uncles and so forth; family I have a hard time keeping straight. By the end of the day he had remembered every single one of their names. He even helps me out on occasion. He can still list patients he has treated years ago, and even what they were treated for. It’s a little gift that he is quite proud of.

Dax has a lot of Austin's qualities, but in this case, remembering names is not one of them. Not even a little bit, not even close. He has a wonderful memory. He can easily remember things from months ago. But names? That’s a whole other story. He can play at a friend’s house weekly and not know his name. “That’s Colby.” He gets cousins confused all the time. “No, her name isn’t Cole. It’s Kobi.” He can’t even keep boy names and girls names straight. Everyone is always "that boy" or "that girl". I am always correcting him. He has never once known the name of his Nursery teachers at Church or any of the other names of the kids in his class. It know. It’s pretty horrible.

Up until now I just shrugged it off and passed it off as an age thing. Maybe even a boy thing. But definitely nothing to worry about.

Until last night when I realized just how horrible of a situation we have. I was putting Dax to bed and we had a strange little conversation. It went like this:

Dax: “Yesterday I was running with Yellow.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

Me: “Hmmmmm.”

I had no clue what he is talking about, which is often the case and I have to play detective and prob for more information.

Me: “Yellow what?”

Dax repeats himself, but adds just a pinch more help.

Dax: “Yesterday I was running with Yellow at the park”.

Yesterday in this case means earlier in the day because we had been playing at the park. I just couldn’t figure out what Yellow was. Was there a dog I missed? Was he talking about the yellow shovel we brought or the Yellow Tonka truck?

Me: “Were you running with a yellow shovel?”

I could tell he was thinking so hard. And then he tried again.

Dax: “Yesterday I run with Yellow and I tagged him”

Now I was starting to get it.

Me: “Oh, you mean the boy who was wearing yellow?" I vaguely remember the friend he was playing with was in a yellow t-shirt. "You were running at the park with the boy in the yellow shirt?”

Dax: “Yes. What that called?” (Isn't that such a nice way to ask what his name is?)

Me: “The boy in the yellow shirt name’s Bradley.”

When I said his name Dax smiled. I could tell he was happy with my answer and content to go to sleep.

Dax: “Oh, Bradley, not Yellow.”

Yikes! I might have a serious problem on my hands. Apparently, if my son calls you a noun, some person, place, or thing, a letter, a color, or doesn't know your name at all, don’t be offended. You probably made quite a nice impression on him. He just has a horrible memory.