Little Geniuses

1. Ben: I'm a genius.

Mama: How did you learn that?

Ben: I learned it from a cement mixer.

2.  Dad: Let me tell you a story about when Mama and I were babies.

Ben: Come on, Dad. Mom and you didn't know each other when you were babies!

3. How does Ben know that? Because I spent a good ten minutes yesterday explaining to him how he came to be (that Mama and Daddy needed to meet in order to make babies -- Ben and Leify -- and that they wouldn't exist without us.  Because, Ben wanted to know why Timmy didn't appear in the pictures about his grandfather's childhood in the book Grandpa's Tractor.  When I explained that it was the past, before Timmy was born, Ben didn't quite get it.  So, we talked about how when his Grandpa was a little boy, Ben was not alive yet. But, then Ben said, "Why did no one want me when Grandpa was a little boy?" Hence the long discussion of how Ben came to be.

Leif:

• First official haircut on Sunday.  Super cute!
• Lots and lots of words. 
• Lots and lots of smiles, dimples, running around the house flapping his arms, and playing (independently!) with trains. Lots of kisses.
• Favorite word: Ben! Still can't say, "Leify."

Yes, family, we know we owe you some photos and video. Two kids is hard! :)

 Love,
Mama

The Writer's Life

This week at preschool, Ben made a book called "All About Me." It is super cute, his photo on the front, pages devoted to his favorite color (red), his favorite game (hide and seek), his finger prints, his age, his handprint.  When we read it together at home, he told me very proudly, "I'm an author."

Which brings me to an absolutely classic Benism today. After seeing a cutout of Frankenstein at the Y this morning (a Halloween decoration), Ben was asking all about Frankenstein. Why was he a monster? Was he alive? Why? Could he see the movie of Frankenstein? Why would it be scary?

I tire pretty easily of answering all these questions that are fairly unanswerable, so I decide to go big picture on Ben. In light of his author comment earlier, I told him that Mary Shelly was the author of Frankenstein more than 150 years ago and she created Frankenstein out of a competition with her friends to write a really scary, really good story, and she wrote such a great story that people are still reading it and making movies about it and talking about it today.  I asked Ben if he thought he might ever think of a story that is so good that people might be reading it more than 100 years later. He was very excited by this prospect, and pronounced that he would write a story about the robot Frankenstein.  Thinking it through, Ben then proclaimed from the backseat,

"I think when I grow up, I'll be an author, instead of a train."

Go for it, Baby. I was just telling Dad this morning that you really have a way with words. Earlier today, in a discussion of Christmas carolling, you told me, "I would like to go Christmas carolling and then eat cookies and candy and EVEN hot chocolate!"

How can we feel bad about letting you watch endless shows on Netflix when it is so clearly helping you develop an ear for language that you transform into beautiful expressions with great cadence. I love you, my little poet.

Love,
Mama



How can we feel bad about letting you watch endless episodes on Netflix when you so clearly pull from your shows amazing cadences like that? Love you, my crazy poet.

Love,
Mama

Big Boy Benisms

Yesterday morning, Ben was cutting cheese w/ a cheese slicer at the kitchen table: "When I was two, I couldn't cut cheese. Now that I'm three, I can cut the cheese mySELF!" After a pause, he adds, "Mommy, thank you, for cutting cheese for me when I was two, before I could do it myself."

I love you, Ben!  And, while you've definitely developed selective hearing now that you're three, I absolutely love having a three-year-old who can do so much and make such great conversation!

Love,
Mama

Important Updates

Leify...

...is walking! Er -- was walking.  Leif Holtan Brown took his first two unassisted steps at gymnastics class on Tuesday, June 22nd.  That evening, he took three steps, twice, in the back alley while watching the big kids play basketball.  He also demanded to dunk, and had daddy hold him up to do so.  I wasn't tall enough to help him reach the hoop.

The following evening, zombie Leify pulled himself to standing on the radiator in the dining room and lurched Night-of-the-Living-Dead-Style to Noah and I who were seated at least 10 Leify steps away.  And then he crawled back and did it again.  And again.  And again. Joyfully.  Until big brother Ben clothes-lined him, and Leify ended up on the floor in tears.  I think he returned to zombie-walking a few more times after that.

Now he cannot wait to hold our fingers (often just w/ one hand) and walk everywhere.  And he loves his little weighted push-wagon that easily rolls across the lawn (the plastic push-thing doesn't).  But, more independent walking?  Fat chance.

...clearly understands lots of language. And nods enthusiastically when his answer is yes!  (For example, if you offer meat or I offer to nurse.)  He totally knows that he's not supposed to do naughty things and looks at me expectantly when he's about to do them.  And, he has discovered the wonders of pantomime.  If Leif wants to nurse, he says, "Nuh" first.  Then he leans far to the side (toward nursing position) and says "nuh." If I say, "Leify, do you want to nurse," he smiles big, opens and closes his mouth (often making a popping noise) and nods vigorously, front and back.  This is great fun, Leify thinks.

He also loves to sing, and begins to sway and make hand motions for Twinkle Twinkle just about whenever he hears music. OMG, Leify, we JUST WANT TO EAT YOU UP.

Your ever-in-character big brother is pretty cute and amazing too:

Ben as Glop

Dad: How are you doing Ben?

Ben: I'm Glop (a character from Busy World, as in "Glip and Glop the Greek Painters")

Dad: G-L-O-P spells Glop

Ben: Why?

Dad: G says "guh".  Can you say Guh?

Ben: Guh

Dad: L says La.  Can you say La?

Ben: Ya.

Dad: O-P says "op"

Ben: You mean like "Op-thomas Prime?" (from "Trains-formers")

Dad: Yes.  (When did you learn to spell?  Or read??)

(This exchange contributed by Noah.)

April 2012 -- My Guys

 

Leif the Gymnast

Ben is taking a gymnastics class at the community center near our house. I have to bring Leif along, because what else am I going to do with him.  It's during what should be naptime.  The first day, I thought maybe Leif would sleep in the Ergo.

Um, no.

The Evanston rec leader suggested that I sign Leif up (at half price) so that he can also be a student in the class, which would allow him to do his thing (climb on all the equipment, sprint crawl across the mats).  Today was Leif's first official gymnastics class as a student.

He's really good at gymnastics. First of all, he was efficiently, cautiously, yet quickly, navigating a series of "steps" made out of mats. Climbing up is old hat for him. And he quickly swivels his body to back his way down. But, his most impressive stunt of the day was hanging from the uneven bars. Seriously. He had assistance (and was of course only hanging from one at a time), but the gymnastics teacher who was holding him up noted that "with the size of his hands" he could probably hang onto one the smaller bars by himself.

Grandparents, never fear. I did quickly say, "Don't let go of him!" And, the guy reassured me, "Oh, of course not." But he (and Leif, I think) totally wanted to. Every time he put Leif back on the mat, Leif raised his arms, gesturing toward the bars and grunting, "Eh," to be lifted up again.

This is all great and cute -- he was smiling from ear to ear while on the bars, and was clearly so proud of himself.  But, come on! Danger ahead! What do those crazy parents expect, naming their kid after a viking?

But -- what I really wanted to record was not that.  It was that Leif is in his room "napping," while I work in the office.  I did a quick phone call and then heard a soft voice from down the hall sweetly say, "Hi-i?"

Hi, Leify.  I love you and Ben.

Leify's words: Hi, Mama, Dada, Ga (again), Di (this -- okay, I may be stretching a little), Buh-buh-buh (bye, while waving his hand.  Hasn't done that one in a while. Hi has totally taken over. Friendlly kid, really enjoys saying "hi."

Leify, you also like to try to put on clothes (and other things) by pulling them over/behind your head. And you like to talk on the phone -- by holding your hand or any old item up to your ear. So precious, I could eat you -- over and over and over again.

Love,
Mama

Benisms

"I'm too young to put myself to sleep, so I need a grown up to put me to sleep."

Ben catapults himself into Leify's pack-n-play.  Mama says, "Ben, tuck your chin, you're going to break your neck." 

Ben replies, "I didn't break my neck!"

That Feeling

Ben is clearly pooping at the kitchen table. In an attempt to get him ready for potty training, I ask, "do you have that feeling that you need to poop?" Ben says, "I have that feeling of ROBOTS LAYING EGGS!"

Guess we have to start somewhere...

After watching lots of Busytown Mysteries episodes (some of them over and over) this week, Ben is all about "mysteries to solve.". I used to hate the show. Now LOVE it! He has figured out that pig won't always wears a red shirt. He thinks maybe DADDY took the pirate treasure in the motor boat, and is currently after me to solve the mystery of the "yellow light that is shining on and off in our house.". He's already come up with two possible solutions: 1) we have fireflies in the house, 2) the house has a night light.

Endlessly funny to listen to a two-and-a-half year old. (please note that earlier he also raved and screamed for at least half an hour straight.)

Meanwhile, Leify is all about saying, "mama", giggling endlessly at everything and DESPERATELY wanting things: me, the iPad, anything else that strikes his fancy. He's quite determined and does a convincing repeated cough for the back of his throat to state his desires.

Love,
Mama

Nursemaid's Elbow

Also known as "Pulled Elbow" or "Babysitter's Elbow," I now prefer my own terms, "Ragdoll Elbow" or "Jellyfish Elbow" or "Dead Weight Elbow" to describe the injury that landed Ben in the ER yesterday.  According to Dad, it was not his pulling on Ben's arm, but rather Ben using one of his key two-and-a-half-year-old maneuvers of instantly transforming from a boy with a skeleton and muscles into a floppy, amorphous creature with not a bone in the body -- while Dad maintained a grip on his hand -- that caused the dislocation in his left elbow.

I was at the INCS Teacher Job Fair (I've been working a bunch of Saturdays lately, so Dad is getting a lot of quality time with the boys -- thanks, Noah!), when I got the call that there might be something wrong with Ben's shoulder or arm.  Thankfully, Jill Yates and a few others have related stories of dislocated shoulders in the past, that all ended well.  Maybe that's why I was so un-freaked out that my initial response was, "Well, I've got the car with the carseats, so why don't you call the neighbors and borrow their car.  Or you could use the stroller to take the boys to the hospital.  Which do you want to do?"

And, Dad, in his infinite patience, paused plaintively instead of saying, "What the hell is wrong with you, Woman?!" By the end of the pause, I had figured out, "Oh, I should come home, huh?"

A few hours later, the boys had napped, I had arranged for Leify to stay with a friend (HUGE thank you Yeliz, Raz and Ilyas) while we went to the ER, and we arrive at Evanston Hospital.


 
The affected arm. 

Ben peers through the fish tank in the ER waiting room.  GREAT idea to have a fish tank there!

Pulse and blood pressure readings.

After an x-ray and a few unsuccessful tries to pop his elbow back in place by a very nice doctor, Ben watches commericals for Chuggington trains on YouTube (that's what he wanted to watch!).

 

All better!  Dr. Noah (yup, the doctor and Dad share a first name) was finally able to pop the elbow back in place, and Ben -- who was AMAZINGLY patient, cooperative and brave, finally gives a high five with his left arm! Victory!  (Yes, he's looking down because he is still watching Chuggington.)

Ben chose chocolate milk as his special treat for being so patient and brave at the "hostiple."

We love you, Ben!

Mom

Benisms

Ben: Mom, can I watch something on your iPad?

Mom: Okay. What are you going to watch? Yo Gabba Gabba? [Being that you screamed and ranted with deep regret earlier today because you had not watched YGG at breakfast.]

Ben: I think Agent Fishtronaut catches my eye. [Smiling, implike. With a twinkle that catches MY eye.]

By the way: YGG and Busy World: Excellent Shows. Ben has learned about gravity, electricity and so much more from BW. Today, he told me repeatedly that "The early bird catches the early worm." Agent Fishtronaut? Lame and boring. Oh well.

Ben: Daddy Crane, I wanted to buy you some beer.

Ben: Daddy Crane, are you the only grown-up crane who knows how to buy beer?

A few days ago... Ben: Grandpa, when are the adult cranes coming home?

Ben: I think I want to make some outriggers.

Ben: Daddy Crane, I have something to tell you: How do machines work? (pronounced "wook").

Love,
Mama

From the Mouth of Ben

At dinner the other night: "I was talking to Leify. I said, 'Leify, get RID OF YOURSELF!"

This morning on our bed: "Leify, say 'Hello.'" To me: "Leify doesn't speak."

And, my favorite: Context first: Last Monday we celebrated MLK Day w/ balloons, an art project, some YouTube videos for kids about MLK, and a birthday cake w/ candles. Ben wanted to know where Martin was (i.e., why isn't he coming to his own party?). I had to explain that he died, but we are honoring him, etc. Today, we were reading Barack Obama's picture book, "Of thee I sing," and came to the page w/ Martin Luther King, Jr., on it. I said, "Ben, that's Martin." Ben looks at me quizzically and very seriously, replies, "Oh, I thought he was a baby."

Love,
Anne

Leifs and Bounds

 

Leify, the last week of December 2011 was a HUGE week for you. Here's a quick recap of your many firsts:

~At 8 and a half months, you finally cut your first tooth! And your second tooth. And your third tooth. And your fourth tooth! You now have four front teeth, two on top and two on the bottom. You have been endlessly nursing to try to stay comfortable. I alternately think, I want to keep nursing Leify for a long time (in terms of months), because he is my last baby. And, I cannot nurse this kid for one more minute. Done, done, done.

~You said Mama. I swear it! I heard it distinctly. Of course, you didn't know what you were saying, but you have started experimenting with a variety of vowel sounds. Until this week, you only had endless variations of "ahhhh" and "haaaa." Now, you are babbling continually and you've figured out that your mouth can make more sounds. In addition to the one time you said "Mama," you also gave me a kiss (okay, open-mouthed lunge at the back of my shoulder) while making the "muh" sound for a kiss!

~But, what I most want to capture, which isn't really a first, is that you are a little social butterfly. You love flirting, smiling, talking. You try your hardest to engage anyone you set your eyes on and make them smile. On the airplane ride back from Boston, you were standing on Ben's carseat looking at the guy in the row behind us and smiling, laughing, just generally carrying on for at least 15 minutes as we waited to get off the plane. On Saturday night at Blind Faith Cafe with Grandma and Grandpa, you kept the entire wait staff and most of the patrons entertained throughout dinner.

You were seated in a high chair at the head of our table, right near the host station and entrance of the restaurant. You were turned around in your chair, one arm thrown back and resting on the back of your high chair, smiling, laughing and chatting up everyone in the place. Several waiters and the manager came over and told us you had kept them entertained all evening. And an 18 year old bus boy came over to the table and held out his arms to take you (so of course I handed you over) because he was so taken with you.

Sure, you look like a Weisman. But your gregarious personality and command of a room have Manny Brown written all over them.

Love you, Sweetheart.

Mama