Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

We have reached the time of much scribbling and writing. Benjamin is ferreting out every pen, pencil, marker, and crayon we have in the house. And I think he has go-go gadget capabilities, because no matter how far back or out of reach I place the writing utensils he always seems to get them. There is a lovely abstract drawing on our fireplace screen presently. Sigh. Thank goodness for the magic eraser.

Every now and then I find myself wandering around trying to decide what to do. I never seem to remember that crayon needs to be cleaned off the fireplace or the kitchen floor or wall....

The lovely thing about this new phase is Benjamin is currently standing at his little activity table, using my pen to mark on every page of my shopping list notepad. Those things are a dollar a dozen, so I'm okay with it- and I love his intent. He chatters while he draws. He is creating, or at least imagining he is creating, a masterpiece. Or he is marking up plans for a new building, or drawing a landscaping idea. I know the picture of cartoon bunnies on the bottom of the page are significant. We have bunnies in our yard constantly. They're everywhere here on the West Mesa. On of my flowerbeds is being slowly consumed by them, and there's patches in the grass where they've nibbled away. Not to mention the rabbit pellets! We pray the boys never notice them. They look like raisins. Enough said.

Benjamin, of course, is obsessed with the rabbits. Some may recall the incident recently when he saw a rabbit through the window. He dashed outside, and became immediately heartbroken when the rabbit ran away.  Deep, choking, sobs heartbroken. Since then he chases them whenever he is free. When he's strapped down to the stroller he contents himself with saying 'hi, rabbit!' or 'rabbit, where are you? oh! there he is' as we pass by on our walks. Cracks me up.

Regardless of his affection for the little pests, the rabbits gotta go. My poor little flowers don't stand a chance if they stay. I see chicken wire in my near future...

Sunday morning/Monday evening

Let it be known that the rule of law in the Ochoa household is the later the boys stay up and the busier they are before bedtime, the EARLIER they will wake in the morning. Unbelievable. Peter came down at 12:45? Not sure. I didn't really lay down after that. I was trying to give him a drink which he rejected over and over and we both passed out with the effort of resisting each other-Peter laying on my arm splayed to my side, me propped up on pillows I wish I had moved before resting my head. My neck is killing me this morning. Then, at dawn, about 6am, Benjamin came bounding down with all his bounding energy and Peter and I, bleary-eyed and groggy from being woken from that deep morning sleep, had no choice but to become conscious or risk injury from the pointed affections of my 2 year old bulldozer. Benjamin gives kisses and then he will press his head against your head and apply pressure. I think he wants to see how hard he can push before you cry out in pain. Then he lays down perpendicular to his intended target and straightens his legs, stretching his toes so his legs are as long as possible. I dont know if his intent is to move the person he's pushing against or see if he can insert his toes into their stomach.

professional rascal. works for smoothies, goldfish, and crackers of any kind.

Ah, well. Such is life with a toddler. We've had an idyllic couple of days. The weather, late afternoon winds notwithstanding, has been perfect. This morning, when I began my ritual of sipping my coffee in the sun after watering the daisies, wildflowers and lavender plants, Benjamin came up to me and said 'Ben chair, mommy.' He pulled on my hand, trying to get me out of 'his' chair. I replied, 'no, there's Ben's chair', and I pointed to a chair in the middle of the lawn, left there the day before. It was about 3 feet away from mine. He climbed up and settled himself in with a butt wiggle. Then he sat forward put his hands on the armrests, and started talking to me. At first I couldn't understand a word he said, aside from some names. But the more I really listened, the more I discerned different words- 'going', 'school', and 'not yet' among them. Shocked my shorts off. I just stared at him in wonder, my brilliant child, as he chattered away. I asked him questions when the opportune pauses occurred. I have no idea if I was on-topic or not, but he seemed to find my responses appropriate.

Now, Benjamin talks all the time. He talks to me all the time, he talks to the tv, and he talks to his dad and brother, anyone who will listen (or look like they're listening). What killed me in this moment was the way he was postured in his chair, leaning forward, intent on our conversation. Every now and then he paused and stared off into the clouds. Then he would say something, grin, and fake laugh, complete with a 'ha ha ha' and wrinkled nose and clapping his hands and slapping his leg in glee. Whatever he said must have been hysterical.

This magic moment lasted about 10 minutes. I didn't take a picture. I didn't want to break the spell. I will never forget his serious little face, and the way his shoulders would shake when he forced himself to laugh. I half expected him to ask me for his own mug of coffee (wouldn't be the first time, come to think of it).

CousCous

We have moved on to Cous Cous. Cous Cous is, of course, Blue's Clues, in Benjamin speak. Both boys adore Steve. They aren't crazy about the other guy who replaced him. Since we got rid of cable this month, we won't be subjected to Steve replacements. The tv schedule is a little better. I turn it on in the morning so I can get my coffee and see what's up in the world.  The shows only play one at a time on our Netflix, so eventually when the boys have lost interest in the middle of the second one, the tv stays off for the rest of the morning. Benjamin has replaced the tv with his LeapPad...but he's learning stuff, so that's okay. We also end up outside in the glorious spring weather so I can water my little wildflower shoots. Unless its horrible and windy, which its been a lot recently. Then I pull out playdoh or put on Thomas, depending on how dark my mood has turned.

After waging battle after battle with Peter over where he spends his nighttime sleeping hours, winning the fight for a few nights, losing some ground with illness...we have lost the war. Yes, I admit defeat. I surrender. Apparently Peter's teething experience is so excruciating that even ibuprofen isn't working to alleviate it. The only analgesic that is effective? Mama's arms. Better yet, Mama's arms surrounded by Mama's cozy bed. I can't really blame him. Greg and I invested in a new mattress this winter, and it is THE most comfortable spot in the house. Peter's mattress purchase was less thought out...our research consisted of staring at the selection at Target and picking out the cheapest one. Sold. I have regretted that decision since Peter got a little bigger. Its really not so much a mattress as a fabric covered, thick cot. We discovered that by padding the bed with a towel under the sheet and one of the beautiful baby quilts on top for him to lie on top of, we can get a good 2-3 hour nap out of him. But it doesn't hold up all night.

Its looks like this that keep him alive.

I truly have no idea if that's the reason he won't stay in his bed. I read that somewhere and it sounded good. Especially since it could add to my mommy guilt list.  I cheaped out on his mattress. Let the internal maternal flogging begin!

In other news, and perhaps most importantly, my darling new nephew was born!!! Rory Higgins made his appearance on April 22nd after 14 hours of labor and about 20 minutes of pushing. Apparently my pint-sized sister is a hoss in disguise. Further proving how rare (read:recessive) our genepool is, Rory's father clearly won this match-up. He's just gorgeous regardless! I am one proud aunt!

Hi, little lovie, sweet baby nephew boy!!  Auntie loves you!!

Can't wait to kiss his little face!

Also went and procured the anti-depressants I so desperately wanted a few months ago. Peter and I are completely done nursing, and I have had increasingly wide mood swings, and increasingly paranoid thoughts. Here's hoping the meds help not hurt! I've taken bigger risks, the good Lord knows. The only other thing I can say is now, after listening to Peter's screaming for 25 minutes, the house is finally quiet and I am to bed. Well, I am to watching Don Draper be hot on Mad Men. Same dif.

Triangle of Love

We've had peaks at the sun these last 10 days, only to have the outdoors snatched away again by that high desert wind. ugh!!  I read a few years ago in some hippie dippy magazine that, even though the spring may bring new high temps in the 60's and 70's, keep yourself wrapped warmly in long sleeves, pants, socks and wrap sweaters. Its great advice. Its tempting to dig out the flip-flops and skirts and shorts for the boys but the wind is FREEZING cold. It crops up every day in the afternoon, making it important to get dressed right away in the morning so I can get outside and work on my new box garden. Which is of course why I've been in my bathrobe every day I haven't had daycare kids here and my box garden continues to look like this:

Please notice the box garden pieces are still in the box. The rocks are partially moved, which is the only progress I have made in the 8 days since I bought it. sigh.

This week I re-committed to Weight Watchers. I don't think I've mentioned that I"m on Weight Watchers. Its pretty cool, I've lost 7 lbs, but the last four weeks I only lost 1 pound, I guess because you have to actually follow the points and stick to the plan in order for it to work. Whatever. Guess i'll stop making cheesy green chile enchiladas and ravioli lasagna and roast more vegetables. Yawn. The other way I re-committed (besides accepting the points as a valid way to track my food intake) is by entering a challenge to make yoga 8-15 points per weeks worth of activity points. I love love love yoga. I have been unable to do it since getting pregnant with Peter, and if I'm honest its been almost 3 years since I practiced with any regularity. My physical therapist gave me pointers on doing the yoga without hurting myself...she didn't mention others...so after I went through my PT exercises yesterday I pulled out my sticky pink mat and got down to a sloooowwww sun salutation. Have you ever tried yoga while keeping a neutral spine? Its like using a bendy straw and constantly reminding yourself not to bend the straw. Difficult and almost pointless...you can still drink out of a bendy straw thats unbent, its just really not as much fun. But it left me winded, so I think it was worth it. My favorite part of doing yoga was pushing Ben off the mat every 2 minutes and telling him Mommy was doing yoga, please don't jump on Mommy or her mat. His eyes lit up and he went careening into the kitchen yelling 'GAY-GURT!!  GAY-GURT!!' which is his toddler word for yogurt. Hilarious enough, but he did it EVERY TIME. Love this kid's optimism. Every time I said 'We don't have yogurt, honey, mommy is doing YOGA' he would run into the kitchen 'GAY-GURT! GAY-GURT!'. 'Please don't roll on mommy's mat, she's trying to do yoga' 'GAY-GURT! GAY-GURT!' so I started saying it just to get him out of my way.

I will leave you with the following series of pictures because I believe they illustrate perfectly the ongoing dynamic between Benjamin, Peter, and myself. The triangle of love, if you will. I don't have any pics of me disciplining Benjamin for hurting his brother deliberately, but if I did they would further the triangle of love by showing how after being disciplined, Benjamin wants lots of hugs and kisses and reassurances. We may be entering co-dependent behavior, but since I am becoming a proponent of Minimalist Parenting, I ain't gonna worry about it. I pay for my own therapy, they can, too, when they are all growed up and realize all the ways I messed them up.

It started with them sweetly watching Cars 2 together for a few moments, which is why I started taking the pictures. 

Don't sit on your brother don't sit on your brother don't sit on your brother! If you look closely you can see the grin as he considers his options.

P.S. I didn't mean to imply I disciplined B after this particular close call. No harm, no foul.