Heard this one?

Here are some snippets of conversations from around here in the last few days. Not huge stories, just the little words spoken softly. . .

Ben said to me -- "Me more please cereal"
I am tickled by his sentence structure. It really is exciting to hear the kids start stringing words together to create sentences.

In the car this morning, Maddie said, "I love Daddy!" shortly followed by "I love Mama!" Next she pointed to me and said, "Mama!" Then Will explained to her that he was "Brother." She echoed with a sweet "bodder" -- It sounded a bit like Winnie the Pooh when he says, "Oh, bother." Then Will said, "I'm a brother, Jon's a brother, Ben's a brother, you are a sister." Maddie wasn't happy about that. She quickly whined out, "NO! I'm princess!" Will and I got a good laugh out of that, which unfortunately/fortunately will fuel her highness' ego. Of course, Will had to also try to get her to repeat it. . . .

Tonight at dinner, Ben was touching his head, and said, "Head?. . . shoulders?" with the look on his face that needed assurance that he got them right. Before Allen or I could respond, Maddie piped up ". . . Knees!" and Jon immediately finished with "Toes!" Allen and I swapped an eye-sparkle and smirk that said a lot . . . they are learning; they are remembering; they are singing; they just completed an entire stanza of a song, not alone, but together; together they are more than the sum of their parts. Then we snapped out of that moment when Allen had to tell Jon to get the fork out of his toes.

I've reviewed some of my recent blog entries and realized everything seems to be about Princess Maddie lately. Rest assured, I do still have my three wonderful boys. Each of the kids seems to go through stages that they are more photogenic, more vocal, more active, or just sillier. Sometimes these stages overlap, sometimes they stand alone. Maddie is going through a princess-PHASE. I am using the word "phase" to convince myself it will end someday. It isn't that I don't want her thinking she is special, treasured, and beautiful; it's that she clearly believes the world revolves around her right now. And before you tell me, "Oh, she's just a typical two-year old," let me remind you I have two others the same age.

Although Ben, Jon, and Will have their moments of wanting to be the center of attention, Maddie expects it all the time. She must be the one on my lap anytime I am sitting; she must be the one to choose the book for all her brothers to hear; she must select her own "princess shoes" each day; she must be the one to carry the purple lunchbag to school; she must have everything in pink or purple, and all pink or purple is hers; she must get the seat at the table she wants; she must have her hair brushed just right and a bow added so she can take it out; and oh, the heavens will fall if I don't remember the chapstick on the day she wants "priddy wips". And when things don't go her way, even just a little bit off, she throws herself on the floor screaming and wailing until one of her brothers gets tired of the noise and gives her what she wants. Yup, the brothers are tending the flames of her temper. Allen and I are getting used to choosing our battles and ignoring the tirades, but she still reminds us daily, "I'm princess."

Jon is a busy little guy with lots of animated facial expressions. You rarely have to guess what mood he is in, you just have to look at his face. Happy, sad, mad, grumpy, curious, frustrated, thoughtful, loving, silly, whatever it may be, he scrunches his eyebrows, crinkles his nose, and twists his lips. Nearly every time he sees me, he sternly tells me (as if I should already know this), "HUNGY!" If I don't respond immediately, he gets my attention and tells me, "Want food!" He is quite demanding, and always hungry. When he eats, he takes his sweet time and makes sure each morsel is properly set upon his fork before eating it. When the crumbs drop to the table, he gets exclussively occupied by brushing them off the side of the table into his other palm. Jon likes to do things by himself and for himself -- he still likes to buckle his seatbelt, he wants to put on his shoes and socks, and he doesn't like holding my hand when we walk through stores or go up stairs. "No. I-self," is his response as he shrugs away from me. Naptime? "No Way!" Well, he does snooze a few afternoons a week. The other times, he manages to get the drawers dumped and play dress up. . . often in Maddie's crib, waking her up. Yesterday I found him TWICE in her crib while she slept, and one of those times he had on his shirt and jeans, a striped dress, a set of flowered bloomers, a bib with a truck on it, a pair of shorts on his head, and he was trying to get another set of pants on over all of that. Jon likes putting clothes on and taking them off. He also likes to sort toys by style or color, stack blocks as high as he can, and line up cars or Little People in very straight lines. That's Jon.

And then there is our cheerful little Ben. Almost always with a big grin and sparking brown eyes. Ben looks a lot (to me) like Allen did at this age. Add that to the orneriness that he also shares with his Daddy, and it's hard not to imagine that this must be what it was like when Allen was a two-year old. Ben is working hard at talking. Although he can often clearly communicate with me, other times, he sits next to me, looks into my eyes, and just starts chattering. He can go on and on and on without a single distinguishable syllable. It is mesmerizing to me, yet a bit frustrating to him that I don't have a clue what adventures he's just described. He calmly repeats it all to me when I say, "What?" Ben gets a lot of joy out of saying "I" (then he waits until we repeat "I") He continues: "Love" (repeat "Love") Then he shouts, "YOU!" I love it, he loves that I love it, so it continues. The last few days, his sense of humor debuted as he turned his sentences into "I love Santa!" When I repeat "Santa" he giggles and shouts, "Ho! Ho! Ho!" I'm not sure why it's Santa, but Ben thinks it is hilarious. As I mentioned a few days ago, Ben has been saying his numbers. I still get such a kick out of that. Ben likes to busy himself with trucks and animals, and lately, he prefers playing by himself in a room away from the other kids.

Will is growning up way to fast. Most days I am worn out and exhausted by the time Allen gets home. Even with three two-year olds underfoot, Will takes more of my patience and energy than the others put together. I think it is that he is too much like me -- he likes to make his own decisions and he is determined to do things his way. When a five-year old and a mama each expect things to be done a certain way and those ways don't match, sparks fly and my patience flies away with the sparks. Many days I am anxious for kindergarten just so I know there will be a little more peace during the day, but then I get choked up thinking about him being gone all day. There is still so much to love about being home with him. Will loves creating whether its a scrapbook page, a robot, a bird, or chocolate-peppermint parfaits. He enjoys learning, but hates to admit it. According to him, "school stinks," and he would watch TV all day if I would let him. When I do let him watch TV I try to choose the shows that are somewhat educational. He has a large vocabulary that he exercises regularly. Rather than telling me a puzzle is "hard" he says "this is challenging." Just like with the little kids, I am finding his language-development "fascinating" -- another word he uses often. Will is a great big brother. Tonight he patiently counted with Ben, holding up his fingers as he said the numbers and Ben repeated them. He helped Maddie get her jacket on this morning and then spent ten minutes trying to zip it up for her. He has quite a buddy in Jon, his partner in crime, his fellow non-napper, his protege and scapegoat. I often find Will reading to Jon when they are supposed to be napping in separate rooms. As patient as he can be, Will sometimes gets frustrated with the little kids easily. They have learned to goad him to make him mad. When Will tell's knock-knock jokes, they quickly catch on to the words. From the backseat we hear the little ones say, "Knock-knock." When Will replies, "Who's there?" they repeat, "Knock-knock,""Who's there?""Knock-knock," (giggle, giggle), "WHO'S THERE?", "Knock-knock," (giggle, giggle, giggle), "WILL YOU TELL ME THE REST OF THE JOKE? WHO'S THERE!?!""Knock-knock," (giggle, giggle, giggle), "MAMA!" We can't get him to understand that the babies don't know what a joke is, and that they think it's funny to make him mad. The joke is that it all happens again thirty minutes later, and the babies laugh and laugh, and Will ends up really mad. . . again. Yes, he is a lot like his Mama, and he is definitely growning up too fast.