Previous happenings with twins R and J can be found HERE. This time I also have a cameo from toddler O.Ninja bells, ninja bells, ninja all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse ninja sleigh!
Yours truly pictured with my three sons. |
1.
My wife sometimes takes the boys to a playgroup during the week. The co-ordinator asked J whether he would be there next week.
"Yes!", he replied excitedly. "Do you know how much fun I have at playgroup?"
"No," she said.
"Too much fun!"
We took a road trip to Wagga Wagga to visit family, stopping to see the iconic Aussie sights along the way. Like the Dog on the Tucker Box statue at Gundagai. And the Ray Warren statue at Junee.
Towards the end of the trip they had an iPad each with headphones, watching movies in the back seat.
(I'd suggested playing eye spy for seven hours instead, like in the olden days, but was unanimously outvoted by my wife and kids.)
After awhile I could see R was fading fast in the middle seat, so I turned around from the passenger seat and asked him, "do you want to pause it so you can sleep?"
He said no and held the headphones to his ears with his hands.
Seconds later that was how he fell asleep. I unplugged the iPad and left him holding the headphones to his ears, the cord dangling between he legs.
When we arrived, we woke him up and tried to get the headphones off.
In a panic he cried, "but the movie doesn't have much longer to go!"
It took awhile to explain to R that the headphones were no longer plugged in to anything and he'd been asleep for over one hour.
3.
One day, J was asked to get dressed. After some protest, where he claimed at age four-and-a-half to still need help, he sulked off to do what was asked of him.
A few minutes later he returned.
J had his t-shirt on his head, one arm through the leg of one of his shorts, the other arm through the leg of his underpants, and his pyjama top still on. From the waist down he was naked. Except he had put his sandals on correctly.
"I told you I need help," he said.
R is usually better at getting dressed, if you can get him to focus on the task at hand.
One day after a lot of mucking about I said, "come on, time to get dressed. Can I pick your clothes?"
He replied, "yes, but only if you get it right."
"How will I know if I get it right?"
"Ask mum." He's a quick learner.
5.
J is rather independent.
When asking him to hold my hand as we walked down Elizabeth St in the Sydney CBD: "No! Stop caring about me, worry about yourself."
When trying to get him to be quiet: "Stop shushing me mummy. If I want to shush I will shush, if I don't want to shush I won't shush."
When explaining why he should listen: "Will you stop complaining about me?"
When we don't hear what he wants to tell us: "I'm not telling you again because you clearly don't listen."
6.
R is less independent but can be more of a handful. In exasperation one day, I rhetorically asked, "why do you keep doing things you know are wrong?"
I should've known I'd get an answer.
"If it was you, I'd let you do it."
I must've given away my feelings about that response on my face, because he then shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't care. I'm a kid!"
I should've known I'd get an answer.
"If it was you, I'd let you do it."
I must've given away my feelings about that response on my face, because he then shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't care. I'm a kid!"
J decided one morning not to eat Weet Bix for breakfast. It was a 45 minute tantrum about not wanting Weet Bix, the wrong bowl, the wrong spoon, them being too soggy, and so on. In the end he didn't eat breakfast.
The next morning, as the Weet Bix hits his bowl he says, "I really love Weet Bix!". And eats it all.
8.
J also loves his mum.
One day he walked up and kissed her.
Mum asked, "What was that for?"
"I love you and you looked sad," he said. Although she wasn't actually sad, the unexpected affection was appreciated.
"Can I have another kiss?", mum asked.
"No", he said, walking away.
9.
They were watching Play School. Eddie Perfect and his ridiculous hair was one of the hosts. He is swishing an elephant's tail attached to the top of his pants.
R calls out to the television, "no one needs to see your bottom, dude."
10.
At Christmas, one of their gifts was a puzzle that is supposed to glow in the dark. The boys emptied the 100 pieces onto the dining room table, and without too much assistance, eventually put together the picture.
Then we waited for night time, to see it glow.
Unfortunately our house wasn't getting dark enough, as we have a high window along the dining room without a blind or curtain, sort of like a skylight.
I tried to explain that it wouldn't work and why.
R just sadly replied, "the shop man tricked us."
11.
Finally, toddler O can't really talk yet. He only has a few key words.
Like mama, for when he wants mum. More for when he wants food, which is pretty much always. And ball, for when he wants to give dad hope of being a future Australian cricketer. On the last point, he already refuses to walk, even though he is eighteen months old, so he's well on his way to making it as a batsman.
So O doesn't say much, but whenever he picks up one of his brothers light sabers received from Santa - which is fairly often, because they leave everything on the floor - he makes whooshing noises like when they crackle through the air in the movies.
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