isoglossia — pending reconstruction

Boys: time is short. Stress is high. Let’s have this month’s report be in the form of a bunch of disjointed observations scattered amid some photographs.

Awesome:

• Adam has learned to say, “Papa, you are on TV!” whenever a show about mountain baboons or warthogs comes on.
• Alek’s speechifying has progressed from last month’s practice babbling to running around yelling, “Oook ah dey!” while waving whatever thing he’s obsessed with during that 15-second window.

• Alek is moving away from the duda, at least during waking hours, though occasionally a surrogate is called for.

• Adam is learning to do lots of things Own Self. Top of this list in terms of improving our quality of life is Own peepee. The whole trousers/underpants up/down procedure no longer baffles you, nor does the all-important aiming, MOSTLY, so while you still often like the company, the fact is that you can now accomplish this most basic of bodily functions unassisted. Major.

• You guys are actually playing together on certain levels, more and more every day, rather than simply braying at each other or shrieking into each other’s faces. It’s really nice to see, drops the ambient din level significantly, and lessens the supervisory element of the parenting load on us ever so slightly (though we still have to maintain some semblance of Fratricide Watch with half an eye).
• Adam is actually hurt and offended if he ‘hears something’ without first having been invited to pull someone’s finger.

• Alek has graduated from the highchair to a booster seat on a chair such as a greater person might use, and has even had some middling spoon success.
• Adam has taken to singing “Love In An Elevator” every time we get in it. Given his age and limited phonetic inventory, this really is a good deal funnier than it may sound.

Slightly Less Awesome:

• A month full of wretched, March-y illness. We’ve all had it at least once, passing it around and marveling at this cold’s tenacity and shape-shifting virtuosity. Latest incarnation: Alek’s ear infection.
• The nasal results of the above item. Ike in particular has been sending out juvenile sea slugs at an alarming rate. Not, I might add,willingly.

• Screaming. See above list item, though not limited to. Screaming, Adam, when your bedtime story comes to an all-too-predictable close, just as it does every time we read it, screaming at a pitch that wakes up Alek (and this is saying something) so that we all get to recommence the bedtime regimen from the beginning, only this time we’ve all got blood streaming from our ears.
• Speaking of bedtime, Alek, you are rapidly outgrowing your crib. We’re afraid we’re stunting your growth and that one day you’ll emerge all contorted and hunchbacked. Yet we’re unwilling to upgrade at this point, so we’re just going to risk it.

• Adam, here is an update on your Time Out progress: there is little to report. Times Out continue to be awarded liberally, yet your behavior does not modify. You tearfully state that you do not want any more Times Out, but cannot seem to wean yourself of such activities as spinning in a circle so that your outstretched palms smack your brother in the face. A new list of Instant Time Out Violations is being promulgated, but my hopes for its efficacy are dim.

• Alek: must you strew our dirty underpants around the place? Can’t you let them await the wash cycle in a decent approximation of peace? And does the strewing have to occur just as we’re opening the door to admit visitors? Really?
• We are very lucky to have a reasonable pool of pictures to choose from for this month’s report, because both of you, but Alek especially, have been so copiously bonking this month. Most of Adam’s wounds are under his clothes, but Alek has had a month of shiners, forehead goose-eggs, abraded noses, contusions, etc. such that we’ve shied away from taking pictures lest they fall into the hands of social workers. So thank god for Photoshop’s healing brush, is all I can say.

Other stuff:

A long spate of dreadful February and March weather kept everyone indoors much more than was convenient, desirable, or hygienic. Still, one positive result of this was a flowering of art production, as mama taught Adam how to branch out into various mixed-media endeavors. His first work features the contents of the fice cupboard. He especially likes to work in turmeric, though we may be seeing the advent of a coriander period.

Carbohydrates feature in this latest work, with emphasis on the pasta family, though rice and couscous are also represented. Clearly, humidity-controlled display facilities will be called for here, and interested curators should also be aware of brittleness issues associated with this work.

(I promise I won’t do this at all often. Or, maybe, ever again. Maybe.)

Really, the rainy, blustery, overcast, and/or generally crappy weather has been brutal this month, and the lack of exercise and fresh air has really been something of a problem for all concerned. Magda’s ingenuity in coming up with new ways to keep you boys from eating your own feet, or each other’s, has been most impressive. Of all the art projects mama has dreamed up, my favorite result is this rocketship collage Adam did with crayons, glue, and a torn up Wired magazine (which, frankly, had it coming).

I find myself repeating the same sentiments in every monthly report, but overwhelmingly the one that threatens to stagger me on a regular basis is the sense of time hurtling past. The growth of you both is so crawlingly incremental that it seems impossible that you will ever wipe your own bottoms, let alone go off to school, present a rational argument, be acquitted, et cetera and so on. But with each passing month I am more sure not only that these things will happen, but they are in the process of happening. Having created you makes me feel omnipotent, hugely proud, occasionally embarassed, and very, very mortal.