Dances with Lyons can officially report that Noah's first words seem to be "Uh oh". This phrase beats out the previous frontrunner, "Get-off-me-you-big-oaf, I-don't-care-if-you-are-my-big-brother! And, in-fact,-that-is-my-toy-that-you-won't-let-me-have!" There are some others that have been being practiced in the past few weeks, namely "Hiya" and "Dada" (along with what I can only surmise is his version of "Mom" which is "Waaaaaahhhhh" yelled at the top of his voice). But, as history will remember, yesterday he threw some morsel of delicious food (it was a grape, I think) off his highchair tray, I said, "Uh oh", and he promptly said it right back at me and then giggled!
Our little smiler seems very proud of his newfound loquaciousness, and hearing him babble and point at things with a curious tone to his voice is very sweet. It is much preferable to the utterings of his brother, who, when he doesn't like a directive from me about improving his behavior, tells me that I'm "naughty". I saw via a friend's Facebook status a term I had not heard before: "the terrifying three's" and I have to say that it does feel that they are somewhat trickier than the "terrible two's".
Summer, with all its wonderful aspects, is certainly the season during which I feel most vulnerable as a parent. With so many doors and windows open, and lots of time spent playing in the back, noise does travel in the air around our closely-connected houses. And none more loudly than that of children's and parents' interactions. As I was hanging up some laundry in the back this afternoon, I heard a wailing child and could just imagine the exasperated look on a mother's or father's face. It's probably - I hope - natural, but I was also momentarily grateful that my own children were not wailing at that very moment. It wasn't long, though, before I was having to keep my shouting to a lower volume than normal as I tried to get Blake to understand why it was not ok to push Noah around.
As for other areas open for criticism, ice cream-covered faces often garner disapproving glances from passers-by, and right now, the only pairs of shorts Blake seems to have are plaid ones, which do not exactly go with the brightly-colored vertically-striped t-shirts he insists on pairing them with.
That said, it has been lovely and sunny for the better part of the past couple of weeks, and this area is blessed with an abundance of gorgeous roses of all shades: yellow, pink, bright red, peach - they are glorious! On Saturday morning I took the boys out to get a few things at the store, and along the way I insisted that we do as the adage suggests, and we stopped and smelled the roses. I was amazed at how different some of the scents were. So for all those local homeowners who observed a middle-aged woman with two small boys stopping to sniff their plants yesterday morning, I hope you'll understand that we were just enjoying the fruit of your labor. You have some beautiful and heavenly-smelling flowers!
I have just looked at the clock, and could only think to myself, "Uh oh," so goodnight and have a great week!