That's ridiculous, Mommy!

This is one of Joshua's new favorite phrases. For example, here is a conversation we had this morning:

• Me: Joshua, if you had pooped in the potty, I wouldn't have to change your diaper right now.


• Joshua: That's ridiculous, Mommy!

Oh, the Irony

Last night I arbitrarily decided that today would be a good day to embark on the journey of potty training. The boys have been watching "Elmo's Potty Time" off and on for the past week or so, and as a result have expressed a slightly elevated interest in sitting on the potty. Prior to being enlightened with the knowledge that the revered Elmo uses the potty, they would outright refuse to have anything to do with it. "Caleb, do you want to sit on the potty?" I would ask. "No!" would be his aloof response as he bolted off in the opposite direction as quickly as possible.

To prepare for Potty Training Boot Camp, I rolled up the rugs and dragged them into the lightly-trafficked dining room. When the boys woke up this morning, I removed their diapers and let them attack the day bare-bottomed. I brought the little potty out into the living room and coerced them to sit on it a few times, just to familiarize them with the concept. After breakfast, Joshua began to fidget then laid down on the floor and pleaded, "Diaper! Please diaper!" but I refused. Well, about 5 minutes later he peed on the hardwood floor. I had been watching both boys like a hawk all morning and immediately grabbed him and plopped him on the potty, but it was too late. "Good thing I rolled up the rugs last night," I thought to myself.

Later in the afternoon, Caleb had requested an orange so I was at the sink washing and peeling one for him. I had instructed both boys to stay with me in the kitchen so I could keep an eye on them and their bodily functions. I lost track of Caleb for no more than 15 seconds, only to discover that he had absconded into the adjoining dining room and peed squarely on one of the rolled up rugs. Oh, the irony!

Empathetic Caleb

I find great joy in that Caleb always wants me, instead of Mommy, to take him out of his car seat.  Katie's attempts to get Caleb out of the car when I'm around are typically met with sharp resistance.  Flattered, I'll come over to unbuckle my child, who quickly changes the tone of his "Daddy! Daddy!" cries from pleading to that of rejoicing.

That's how things are supposed to go, but they didn't go that way last night.  We had just pulled into the Safeway parking lot and I opened up the car door to get Caleb out, but instead of being greeted with his typical enthusiasm, he twisted away, crying out for "Mommy! Mommy!"  I was taken aback slightly, but I figured, at least, Joshua would welcome the opportunity to have Daddy get him out of the car.  Nope.  Both boys were begging for Mommy to do the honors. 

Now I was really bummed, so I thought I'd express my displeasure by sticking out my lower lip and hanging my head.  The boys, both being held by Katie now, began to notice my sullenness and a sincere expression of remorse came across Caleb's sweet face, complete with quivering lip and welling tears.  He looked at me, then away briefly as if pausing to think, and then writhed out of Katie's arm towards me.  I gladly accepted Caleb into my arms, but only held him for a few seconds before he wriggled back towards Mommy again, as if to say, "I'm sorry I made you sad, Daddy. You know I love you, but I just want to be with Mommy right now." 

Caleb was right.  I should have known that this single instance of rejection wasn't an indication that they boys no longer loved me.  How silly of me to take it so personally.  Sometimes you just want Mommy, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Flippin' Sweet

[Note: This post is by daddy.] 

One of the joys of twin toddlers is their willingness to wrestle with dad despite having a notable height, weight, and strength disadvantage. This permits me to emulate professional wrestling maneuvers that would otherwise require muscle mass extrinsic to my body. The boys' (and my) favorite moves involve me flipping them, such as with the "360 Daddy Bomb" that I debuted today.  I pick them up as in a typical jacknife powerbomb, but instead of dropping them immediately on their backs, I rotate them 360 degrees before plopping them down onto our pillow-covered couch. 

But our flipping fun goes well beyond that single move.  Sometimes while the boys are playing on the couch, I'll position myself on the floor so I can flip them over the edge when they lean towards me.  Or I will lie on the floor with my legs on the couch for the boys to climb onto; once aboard, I'll raise my legs, causing them to slide and flip onto my chest.  In both cases, the boys immediately jump back on the couch to repeat the process, laughing the entire time.  Also, when we play "One, two, buckle my shoe" I'll give them a good flip when I reach the "nine, ten, do it again!" part.  They love that.

Although these aformentioned moves are the most thrilling, the most nostalgic maneuver in my repertoire is something I dub the "Daddy Attack."  Down on my hands and knees, I lock my eyes on a boy and begin to slap the ground with my right hand to notify them that the Daddy Attack is imminent (after all, with a move this devastating, it is only fair to give them warning).  Then, with a sudden burst of speed, I lunge towards them and tackle them with my shoulder.  For added effect, I'll pull their legs towards me as I push them over.  That classic, which I've employed since they could barely stand on their own, always brings a tear to my eye.  And someday, when the boys grow up and redefine "Daddy Attack," I may end up with more than one tear.

Let the deception begin!

Sometimes people will marvel at how remarkably identical our boys appear to be, and predict the great fun they will have when they are older, swapping classes and tricking their teachers and classmates into thinking they are the other twin. Well, it's already started! Joshua, in particular, will often point to Caleb and say "Joshua!" and giggle mischeviously. Caleb will sometimes do the same, although he does not seem to be as susceptible to silliness as his younger brother. I'm sure the boys will figure out soon enough, though, that Mommy and Daddy aren't their ideal audience, and that they should take their tricks elsewhere!