So, while I was away on vacation, I had my new keyboard and mouse delivered. John’s keyboard and my mouse both died last week, so he took my keyboard (it was a split ergonomic one that we’d actually bought for him originally, but then when my keyboard died I used it first…) and I ordered a new pair from Walmart. Upon arriving home, I broke into the box with childish abandon, excited to play with my new toys, and the box lay forgotten on the kitchen floor.

That is, until Eric walked up to it, pulled out the papers that were in the bottom, and said, “Mommy, I’m going to drive my car!”

One Sharpie, a few minutes, and many shapes later (“Mommy, the windows are like squares! The wheel is like a circle!”) … he had a car. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, like standing back and watching your child play in a box the same way you did as a young child. Boxes are awesome, because they are anything! In it, Eric drove to Dragonland, he raced with Lightning McQueen, and he chased down some bad guys to put them in jail. Then, seeing all the fun, Danny wanted in.

Of course, since he was having so much fun, Eric wanted no part of Danny taking a turn in the box! As Danny tried to climb in, Eric pushed his hands away, leaving Danny standing and staring in envy. Well, he didn’t stand and stare for very long; he is a 2 year old, after all.

At this point, Mommy had to put down the camera for a while. Tantrums were soothed – well, ignored until he stopped screaming, and then soothed – and little boys were reminded about the better points of sharing and taking turns. Finally, Danny got a turn.

He was so excited to take his turn! He climbed in. He climbed out. He climbed in. He stood there looking around, and I could see it in his face. “Um, what’s the big deal in here?” He flapped the sides up and down a few times, then climbed out and wandered away…at least until Eric got back in and went driving again, making the box seem much more fun.

Allow me to introduce you to my two children, Monkey #1:

and Monkey #2:

More and more these days, my children are the living incarnate of monkey see, monkey do. Eric does something, Danny mimics it. This morning, Eric was sitting on the stairs and, being a goof, shaking his head back and forth. Danny walked over, laughed, sat down, and started shaking his head. Later, Eric was playing some game that I guess he picked up at school. “Sit down, criss cross applesauce (crossing his legs), shake your whole body, aaaaand fall down!” So what does Danny do? Yep, he comes over, sits down, and then throws himself to the floor and busts a gut laughing.

The boys came over to the fridge for their drinks after school the other day. I gave Eric his, he gave me an energetic “thank you!” and went off. I put the lid on Danny’s, got him to verbalize for it (owk, his word for milk), and gave it to him. With a huge smile, he gave me a cheery “ay oo!” and followed his brother into the living room. Too bad Eric doesn’t give him opportunity to speak for himself more often!

What Danny doesn’t imitate, Eric does with or for him. He shares all his snacks with Danny, he gives toys to Danny, he tries to play with Danny the same way I do with him and Danny both. There never seems to be anything but a small token objection, and often there isn’t even that; he genuinely wants to do it.

We knew having our kids close together was something we wanted. Then, Danny came in a flourish of hospitalizations and fears, and for the past couple years I’ve honestly kind of questioned and resented that desire. I knew I couldn’t change the past, but having them so close in age created more work than I ever expected; after all, if I hadn’t been pregnant at the time, I would have caught CMV from Eric, become CMV immune, and then (hopefully, theoretically) had a perfectly healthy child. Hindsight’s 20/20, right?

Now, finally, I’m remembering and living why I was so excited to have two boys so close together. Eric goes up to Danny randomly to give him a hug and a kiss. “Danny, I love you.” Then they go off together, and the house fills with the laughter of two boys who totally dig each other, and who these days seem to do everything together.

It’s pretty awesome.

So, I finish reading Eric his bedtime story, and I lean back and stretch to put the book onto the little table/shelf by his bed. Eric sits up, leans over, and runs a finger over my stomach.

“Mommy, what are those?” he asks, moving his finger along the faded stretch marks that line the bottom half of my stomach.

“Those are called ‘stretch marks,’” I tell him gamely. “Sometimes, when Mommies grow babies in their bellies, they get them.”

He looks at me, bewildered. “If you have a baby in your belly, then I can have one too!”

“No, bud, I don’t have a baby in my belly. Do you remember when my tummy got bigger and bigger? And then Danny came home to be your baby brother?” I prompt him, chuckling.

“Oh…” he says, putting down the shirt he had pulled up to show me his belly. “But mommies can’t have babies in their tummies.”

“They can’t?” I ask.

“No,” he tells me seriously. “Because the babies will hurt them…with knives!“

We have a library that sits about a mile away from our house. I went to it once, long long ago – even signed up for a card – and then I never went back. I couldn’t tell you why… I just didn’t.

With the start of the summer reading program and a Caillou episode about the library that got Eric begging to go, I finally went back there, this time with 2 little boys in tow.

Eric didn’t know where to start. I herded the boys over to the picture book section and set them loose. Eric just kept flitting around at first. “Mommy, look at this book! Mommy, I want THIS book! Mommy, I want to share THIS book with Danny!” He loved the stools that let him climb up and look through the higher rows of books, and even reach some of the books set up along the top for display.

He also loved that there were so many different places he could just stop and read, tables and chairs that were just his size, a circle full of giant pillows, or even just right in the middle of the floor.

Danny followed along quite diligently, trying to do everything his brother was doing. He’d climb up on stools after Eric did, even if Eric hadn’t gotten down yet. He’d trail behind and sit down at a table with him, pulling over whatever book was on the table and flipping it open and closed. There were also many windows around that he loved to stand at and look out, and a toy in one corner – one of those things with all the wires and the beads on them that you could push along their paths that – that he kept going back to and playing with.

All in all, they had a blast. Eric even got his very own library card, though when I asked him to pose with it, he stomped a foot and said, “Mommy, I don’t WANT a picture!”

When we finally got to the car, his first library book in hand and his card safely in Mommy’s wallet, he finally told me I could take a picture, then asked when we could read his book, and when we could go back.

We’re four books into our summer reading program sheet now, a little fish colored in for each book we’ve read together, Eric finding the correct numbered fish and scribbling over the number quite carefully. Of course, this kid hardly needs an excuse to read books, but I certainly won’t turn down a bunch of coupons for doing something we love to do anyway!

It wasn’t until I went putzing around the Internet that I realized most children have (largely) developed a dominant hand by the time they’re 2-3 years old. I figured by the time they were 4, starting into preschool and starting to learn letters, that one would have made itself known, but 2-3 surprised me. Eric still switches.

That being said, I think – I think – he is going to be a lefty. Lately, he seems to start more often with a spoon, a crayon, or whatever in his left hand. He’ll switch it to the right, give it a shot that way, and a lot of the time end up switching back to his left. When we were drawing the other day, he seemed to have more control in his left hand as well, his circles rounder and his lines straighter. (We were drawing stick figures. He had me draw a pirate hat on one of them, it was awesome.)

The more I read, the more I figured that the switching could easily be another sign of left-handedness. I mean, it’s got to be confusing for a kid when he wants to write and draw and eat with his left, but everyone around him is using the right hand instead. I’m right-handed. John too. Heck, even Danny is right-handed! (Of course, that’s due to underlying issues, but the end result looks the same to a 3 year old.)

I’m going to be curious to see if I’m right over the next year or two. If I’m right and he’s a lefty, the trick is going to be how to support that with him; my dad is a lefty, and I know (at least when he was growing up), a lot of the time people would try to “force” lefties into using their right, something I don’t want to happen with Eric.

Of course – I could be totally overthinking this, and I could be completely wrong as well. It’s just one of those little curiosities I wonder about… There are a lot of those.

I swear that Eric gets more creative by the day. He is still a perfectionist, so his creativity rarely shows itself in art projects; he refuses to do most anything unless he can do it perfectly, which is an ongoing struggle between us. He does, however, show his creativity with the things he thinks up every day.

“Mommy,” he told me this morning, “I want to go to Grant’s Farm again.” I smiled and ruffled his hair; we went to Grant’s Farm yesterday and he had a blast. When I didn’t tell him we would be going, he wandered over to Daddy’s desk and found a random note card with writing on it. He picked it up, studied it carefully, then held it up to me.

“Mommy, this says we need to go to Grant’s Farm!”

…Can’t blame the kid for trying.

We were at the park the other day at it began to cloud over and sprinkle. Now, rain at the park is never good, and it’s twice as bad for us because of Danny. If we’re ready for rain, that’s one thing, but a surprise shower is otherwise known as a surprise soak-the-electronics-on-my-son’s-hips. Not so fun. So we packed up before the rain started and headed home.

“Mommy,” I hear from the back seat, and I know something good is coming. “We need to get home because it will be a storm.”

“You think so, Eric?” I asked, and he nodded with a firm “mm-hm!”

“And when it storms, it will flash, and then it will turn our TV off!” Because, of course, we have satellite, and about 3 times a year a good storm knocks it out. “I don’t like storms.”

Of course, the best moments to me are the times he tries to sing. Eric is very much taking after me – he loves music, and loves to sing. He is not, however, very good with lyrics. He has the ABC song down, but the Barney song? Not so much. (This probably has something to do with the fact that John and I are NOT Barney fans, and avoid him watching it as much as possible.)

Since he doesn’t know the lyrics, he makes up his own.

We love you
We love me
We’re all, we’re all best friends for you
With a great new adventure just for you
Won’t you sing with me too?

It seems like, by the time Easter is actually here, most of the excitement is past. Of course, there is still the key aspects of Easter itself, from the Bunny’s basket to the religious foundation for the day…but so much happens the Saturday before!

I’m almost hesitant to post about the Easter egg hunt that we’ve gone to for the past couple years, because it seems to be a secret so far and we would love it to stay that way! Out by a lake, not far from home, they host a hunt for kids in the afternoon and adults in the evening. The eggs all have tickets inside, and they ask parents to help police a “10 eggs per child” policy so that everyone gets in on the action. The hunts are split up by age groups, to keep them from being too crowded, and for the 0-3 age group there were 9 kids, including ours! After the hunt, you can go inside and pick out prizes for your tickets, candies and stuffed animals and little toys.

After that, we set our sights on a different kind of egg: duck eggs. Well really, it was less about the eggs and more about the wet lands in general. John had found online a “wet lands exploration” event for kids! It was half inside and half hours, and it had activities about beavers and ducks and fish and archery and all sorts of other stuff. Much to my amazement, Eric participated in a lot of the “big kids” activities! He stood in line to go into a “beaver dam” and learn about beavers, colored a frog hat, and decorated his own binoculars. I guess he really is growing up! Danny preferred just to run around outside enjoying the gorgeous day.

Once we got home, the boys played outside for a while so I could cobble together supper and boil some eggs so we could color them! It’s been years and years since either John or I have colored eggs, and I had grown up making pysanka (Ukranian Easter eggs), so it was a learning opportunity for all four of us. I’d learned a great trick from some of my online mommies that let Danny get in on the action, and he took to it a lot better than I expected him to! With an egg in a wire whisk and a cup of orange dye, we talked about eggs and water, white and orange, in and out, splash and drip…all sorts of great Easter egg language. He had a ball, and even wanted to wipe up after himself when he was done.

And so, we had Easter! The bunny came in the morning and hid the eggs we’d colored so that Eric could hunt them down, and both boys were rewarded by small Easter baskets with all sorts of goodies. John will probably be eating hard boiled eggs all week.

I don’t think he’s complaining.

Mommy, what are you going to cook today? Mommy, can I help? Mommy, I just need to bring my chair over. Mommy, that’s my job!

Yep, all Eric wants to do these days is cook. So, we cook. Have I mentioned that my son is going to turn into the next Alton Brown at this rate? I don’t mind though, I think it’s awesome…at least until I include him on something like making french toast and he refuses to eat it afterward because he says he doesn’t like eggs. That one kind of backfired!

I got a Taste of Home cookbook for my birthday – Comfort Foods on a diet. It is fabulous, a great look at how to take existing recipes and make them healthier, portion sizes, and some absolutely delicious recipes you’d never know were good for you! When I saw the chicken chili in the crock pot, I knew we had to give it a try, and Eric was right there with me. (I’ll list out the ingredients at the bottom if anyone wants to make it too!)

My impatient son bounced by my side while I diced up some chicken breasts and sauteed them with some chopped onion and minced garlic to brown them nicely.

Once they were browned, I transferred them to the crock pot and it was Eric’s turn! In no particular order, he added a drained can of beans (the recipe called for white kidney beans – we used red since it’s what I had, and it turned out just fine!), a can of diced tomatoes, a can of Rotel tomatoes, and a cup of frozen corn.

On top of all that, Eric shook on some ground cumin, then went to sprinkle on the onion salt. Unfortunately, it came out WAY too fast, and we got about twice as much as the recipe called for. Whoooops! We were in luck though – it called for both onion salt and regular salt, so we just skipped the regular salt. I took care of the rest of the seasoning (pepper and chili powder) though.

We each took a turn giving it a stir, then Eric turned it on and we let it sit for 5 hours. We learned this is a very resilient recipe! It says to cook on low for 5 hours, but I discovered when we got home that Eric had “helped” some more and turned it up to high once I’d walked away. Eeek! Despite that, there was still plenty of liquid left in the pot and it tasted fabulous with a little shredded cheddar on top.

Yum yum!

The ingredients:
1 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breast, cut into cubes
1 small onion, chopped
1 tsp minced garlic
1 can beans, drained
1 can diced tomatoes, no salt added (undrained)
1 can mild Rotel diced tomatoes with chilis (undrained)
1 cup frozen corn
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp onion salt
1/2 tsp pepper
1/2 tsp chili powder

I have no idea where I read or heard it, but when Eric was just a tiny baby I remember a line about kids and learning. “Listen to your favorite music in the car. Singing along will teach your child to enjoy and appreciate music, because you do.”

I have my share of “kids music” in the car for rides to daycare and back. Imagination Movers, Wiggles, a Mickey Mouse CD full of generic kids songs… We listen to them plenty. Eric will request by name the music he wants to listen to, or inform me that he doesn’t want any music at all. If I put on some CDs, he’ll shake his head and tell me, “That’s the Mommy music. I don’t like the Mommy music.”

Well, all right then, what do you want to listen to?

Lately? “I want the man music, Mommy!”

The man music, as he puts it, is Paul Brandt. Not anything targeted for kids, not something from the Disney Channel, but good old Alberta country. The first time he asked for it, I was clueless, and after a moment’s thought he clarified, “the movie…music with the man on it.” A lightbulb moment! The CD has a silhouette of Paul Brandt on it.

Apparently, whoever said it was right: kids will learn their appreciation of music through their parents. I can only hope to share so much of the music I enjoy with the boys over time.

Now if only I could get him to stop demanding I make it “super, super loud!”

As Danny grows more independent, I’m giving him a little more time to play while…not quite supervised. I’m close, but I’m not right on top of him close like I felt the need to be for basically 2 years. This new found freedom is allowing some excellent brotherly bonding.

Eric had half a banana left, and Danny had none. Eric noticed, and he wanted to share with Danny. Over he rushes.

“Hey, Danny! Do you want a banana?”

He holds the banana up so Danny can see it.

“Banana! Do you want some banana? Yum yum!”

He pauses, staring at Danny for a moment.

“Say ‘banana,’ Danny, and you can have some!”

…Yeah, it’s pretty easy to tell we’ve been living the speech lifestyle for a while now.