Raised in the Woods

Last night as I was changing Carter's diaper, he was holding his Lightning McQueen racecar from Cars in one hand and his Scruff train from Thomas the Tank Engine in the other and he proceeded to make his friends have the following conversation:

"Oh, hello, have you seen The Lion King?"

"Yeah, the meerkat and the warthog are friends and then they fight like this:"

(racecar and train attack each other in clanking jumble of wood on metal)

"Okay, now it's time to talk about Monsters, Inc."

"Yes, the scary monster is in the boy's room and then he trips over the soccer ball and falls down on his bottom and it's SO FUNNY!"

(proceeds to laugh hysterically while train/racecar clank once again)

Sidenote: while he went through a huge Lion King phase a few weeks ago and wanted to watch it repeatedly every weekend (yes, TV is still only a weekend treat), he hasn't seen it recently and has only seen Monsters, Inc a few times, weeks and weeks ago - apparently that soccer ball scene made a big impression. Occasionally we'll be driving to school and he'll pipe up from the backseat - "Mommy? The scary monster was in the boy's room..." yadda yadda.

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The other day I realized that the days are just FLYING past and that my boys are growing bigger with each one that passes, and I'm not writing ANYTHING down lately. Yesterday I was reading a magazine while pumping (for the 40,873rd time) and there was an interview with some 70s female rocker - Stevie Nicks, maybe? - and she said that she writes in her journal every night, "because if you don't write it down, you'll still remember it, but it will be just a ghost of a memory." And by damn, I don't want ghost memories of my babies' childhoods, I want the total, whole-hog, detail-packed EVERYTHING of a memory.

Oh, these boys of mine. Every (crazy, exhausting) day is something new. Lately Carter likes to tell us "the plan" and tick things off on his fingers. As in:

"Okay, here's the plan: 1: We go home. 2: We take off our shoes. 3: We wash our hands. 4: We take a nap. 6. We wake up from the nap. 5: We watch SUPER WHY!!!"

...all said while ticking the items off on his little fingers, held up in the air. I have no idea where he got the "here's the plan," but I don't think Max says it, so perhaps it's just another of the many things that I say regularly that I am not fully cognizant of, so that when he repeats it later I am taken aback and have one of those "kids say the darndest..." moments until I realize that I probably said that very thing to him yesterday.

The Super Why fixation is a new development over the past few weeks. Of all the kids' shows I know, I couldn't have picked a more educational one for him to obsess over - plus racing to his "Why-Flyer Chair" is one of the only ways to get him into his carseat each night when I pick him up, so bless you, Super Why. Sometimes we'll be out for a walk or at the park and he'll take off running and shout "SUPER WHY!!!!" at the top of his little lungs. Pure joy. It's also his inroad to making new friends, as I've noticed him walking up to strange children at the park and saying "I'm going to go home and watch SUPER WHY!" Usually these are much older children and they just look at him like he's a little insane, but watching my shy boy become more sociable is pretty much the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

Griffin is 8.5 months, crawling and exploring everything and everywhere. He's simply the happiest baby, so much so that when he does cry, it is so strange and rare that we all just stop and look at each other like "who is this strange child and what has it done with our baby?" Then two seconds later he's smiling again and bouncing, dancing, up and down in your arms. He's pure joy and love and big squishy baby thighs all wrapped up into one sweet roly-poly little package (weighing in at 19.6 lbs at his 8-month check-up, solidly 50th percentile across the board, yet he seems so huge compared to Carter's tiny 10-percentile self).

It'll sound crazy, but I do believe that Griffin has now said two words - the first, Carter's name, was uttered over a month ago, and he IS talking about his brother - "Dar-duh! Dar-duh!" No Mama, no Dada - this boy only has eyes for his big brother. And for the ducks in his bathtub and on the walls of his bedroom - "Duh! Duh!"

Brothers. Watching their relationship develop is both magical and nervewracking. It's all sweet and fine until somebody gets their head sat on. "We don't hit/squish/step on/crawl over/tease/steal toys from the baby" is a daily conversation with The Roo, who has become FIERCELY protective of his train set and lets out a "NOOOOO, Baby Griffin!!!" wail whenever Little G starts heading toward the tracks. He could be ten feet away, but if his smiling, drooling little self is pointed in the general direction of the trainset, panic ensues and the frantic "NOOOOO-ing" begins. Sharing does happen, and is getting better, bit by bit. There are lots of "CanIPlayWithThatToyBabyGriffin?" asked AFTER the stealing of the toy has already occurred, but at least Carter's asking. Not that Griffin ever minds. His brother can do no wrong in his eyes. On weekends, when Carter is perched on the couch watching his precious Super Why (or Thomas, or Dinosaur Train), Griffin crawls over and pulls himself onto his knees just to stare at Carter and wonder how on earth he can himself up there and join the party. Then we start with the "Carter, please don't kick the baby in the face" talk, because I don't need an errant heel to the noggin interrupting my (desperately needed) morning coffee.

And now, as I run off to a meeting, I leave you with 87,231 pictures of my kids.