You bring the troot; I'll bring the poptorn. O-taaaaay?

Thinking about how my boys' language has exploded recently makes me also think about how cute some of their words/phrases are.

They crack me up with their little voices and hysterical (mis)pronunciations. And I've noticed a definite pattern: They start a lot of words with "T", "Tr", "D" and "Dr"...and no one knows why.
See for yourself:

Cary = Tary
Fruit = troot
Granddad = Dranddad
Floor = droor
Van = dran
Crying = trying
Cook = took
Phone = tone
Feet = teet
Kiss = tiss
Fork = tork
Frog = trog
Corn = torn
Popcorn = poptorn
Milk cup = milk tup
Good job = doodjob
Cereal bar = tereal bod (Cary); tereal bog (Dean)
Pancake = pantake
stop sign = top tine
Oh my goodness = oh my doodness
sing-a-long = tingarong
c'mon = tum on!

Here they are with their "tun-glasses:"

And then there are just funny little ways they put words together or pronounce them:


I'm running = Running me
Do it again; one more time = nother gen (Another again)
Please = pee pease OR puh-leeeeze
Music = muick
Blueberry = boobury
children = childrens
oven mitt = oven mitten
avocado = avocadonu
Mr. Potato Head = mashed potato head

There are many, many more. These are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head.

Funny, no? I'm glad to get these down, so that when they're teenagers, with earbuds permanently attached to their heads, and very little to say to me :-(, I can look back at this, remember their little voices and cute little words...and smile.

Talking up a storm

The other day my friend Stacey mentioned how her little boy, Hugo -- one month older than Cary and Dean -- was speaking in 4-to-5 word "sentences." And my friend Angel recently mentioned how her son Zachary -- one day younger than Cary and Dean -- has had a "language explosion."

It got me to thinking about how my boys, like theirs, have really been talking up a storm as of late. Everyone notices it, from my Mom to Michelle to people we meet out and about. They talk and talk and talk ...and talk some more. Like Hugo, they are stringing more and more words together. Like Zachary, they are able to say just about any word they want now, with some, but not a tremendous amount of, effort.

Michelle and I have daily marvelfests at all the things these boys say and do.

They can speak in complete sentences:

•  "Mommy upstairs with Baby Clair, resting."
• "Baby Clair crying, want her pacifier."
• "I no like it. I no like poop in the potty."
• "No, no go to Aunt Tootie house. Stay inside."
• "Eat dinner when Daddy comes home."
• "Mommy, I find a truck (pointing underneath the sofa). I find it under there."
• And here's one that really floored both of us: Cary to Dean the other day, while sitting in their highchairs: "No Dean, stop making the noise. Eat your lunch! Drink your agua! Okaaaaaay?" 

(Dean, of course, upon being given a direct order, did the exact opposite.)

They also use pretty big words for not-yet-2-year-olds.

 Today Cary used the word "pretend," as in "Dean pretend to cry!" And yesterday, when one of the boys' toys kept going off mysteriously (freaking me out) Dean said, "Somebody pushing it."

Cary routinely tells me he's "busy" or "I'm doing something," when I ask him to come here. And Dean can sing at least four songs, word for word, all the way through in perfect pitch. (Unless I ask him to do it for friends or family. Then of course he can't do anything but say "NO!")

They throw pillows on the floor and say "Pillow mountain!" And then they scale the pillows and say, "Mountain climber!" Cary tells me about the "neighbors" he hears running up their stairs next door (hazards of living in a rowhouse). Dean asks me for "pineapple, please!"

At the doctor on Thursday, Cary (while reading a book) yelled, "Dr. Bodnar!!! The monkeys eating the bananas!" Dr. Bodnar cracked up. And then told me, "His language is out of this world."

Both boys cry when the "ice cream truck" rolls down our street without stopping, and ask for it to "come back."  They love their bathtub "hippopotamus" toys. They flip through "magazines" or "newspapers" and say, "reading." When I'm working, they say, "Mommy's computer." They tell me to put their food in the "microwave." Their favorite words are "lawnmower" and "weed whacker."

They blabbed to my Mom that we had gotten a new "shower." (It was just the curtain, but she didn't need to know that. It would have been fine for her to think my bathroom always looks that bright and clean! Thanks, boys!)

Dean comforted Cary when he was looking out the front door for Michelle by saying, "MiMi on her way. MiMi driving." When Michelle told them to use their spoons to scoop up their yogurt like a bulldozer, Cary said, "Scoop it like excavator."

Ummmmm. Hello! Do you boys know you're not yet 2? Hellloooo!

And this is all I can remember off the top of my head. There's so much more they say, it's unbelievable that these are the same boys who used to just stare off into space and coo at things. I am seriously amazed at them.

They are so much fun to talk to and be with right now, it makes it infinitely easier to deal with the meltdowns and tantrums that pepper their day. It's like their language explosion, as Angel so aptly put it, is my reward for months and months of not knowing what the heck they wanted! And apparently it only gets even more pronounced at 2-and-a-half, so I can't even imagine what kinds of things they'll be saying then. I can't wait to talk to them more and more!

By the way, my daughter is also clearly going to be verbal. At not even three months, she already says "H!"

I'm telling you! See for yourself:

Geniuses, these Davis kiddos!! And darn cute, too!

On talking, reading, singing and talking some more

Last night I had an appointment after work, so on my way there, I called home to talk to Lester and the boys, who were playing a little before getting ready for dinner.

Lester put me on speaker-phone so I could talk to the boys. Cary just wanted to push the buttons and giggle, but Dean had something to say:

Dean: Hi, Muh-muh.

Me: Hi, Deanie!!

Dean: Mo racka? (Lester had given them crackers to tide them over before dinner, and Dean wanted more. Lester had already said "no" a thousand times. So now he's asking me.)

Me: You want more crackers?

Dean: Pre-pees. (For some reason, he always says "pretty please," even though no one seems to recall teaching him that.)

Me: No, sweetie. Daddy said the crackers are all gone. It's almost time for dinner.

Dean: Dinner. Ah-mose.

Me. That's right. It's almost time for dinner. Do you want some good dinner? Daddy's gonna give you dinner soon.

Dean: Nooooooo! No dinner!

(Lester, in the background: "Cary, do you want some dinner?" Cary: "Noooooooooooo!! Nooooooo! Pway! [play]")

Me: Ummm, OK, babe. Talk to you later. (I felt meltdowns coming on any second and, to be frank, the radio was rockin' in the car, and I much preferred some sweet tunes to the cacophony of screaming toddlers.)

I recount this little scene to point out that I had a fairly intelligible phone conversation with my not-yet 21-month old baby, the one who is actually the least talkative of the two.

This just goes to show you Moms of infant twins or twin-Moms-to-be (you know who you are, DCAngel and Wiley) that all the books that tell you that twins will likely be speech delayed, and that boys will likely be speech delayed, and that preemies will likely be speech delayed -- all those books don't know diddly.

Now, I'm not saying don't read the books. I read them and I continue to read them. I just ordered the next in the series of Ames books to help me understand year 2 for the boys. The books ARE helpful. But they are not the end-all, be-all.

YOU know your kid(s) better than anyone. And you can defy the odds (barring any actual developmental issues that need outside intervention) just by doing what comes naturally to you: loving your babies, reading constantly to them, talking to them not at them, repeating things 800 million times, etc. etc.

It fueled me every time I read that twins were likely to get HALF the attention that a single baby would get. It drove me to say, That's what you think, baby books! My boys are going to get DOUBLE the attention. Ha! Take that!

And so I made it my mission. I made my sister read to them in the NICU when she came to see them. My Nana laughed at us that we read to them at one week old. "Will you look at this?!" she cackled. "Reading books to them already!" We never designated a "storytime." Anytime was a good time to read. We play music (kids' songs) everyday, regardless of how sick we get of hearing them. We sing to them ALL the time. They see TV in the mornings, when we're getting ready for work ("Noose!" they demand, if we don't have the Today Show turned on fast enough) and during football games (Lester insists). But other than that, no TV. We are with them, doing things and talking about what we're doing, explaining and expounding and then explaining some more. It's exhausting, if I'm being honest. But it's important.

(Two months old, already dreaming about books:)

And I'm not patting myself on the back here -- there are a million things I could and should do better as a parent. (Oh, yes, sooo many things!) I'm just saying that we were determined to make their early years language-rich, and so we try really hard not to let ourselves lapse in that area.

It goes to show you that determination can pay off!

Now...enter Curve Ball in a few weeks.

Will we have the energy to do it all over again?? Seriously, when I say that all that talking/reading/repeating/explaining/singing is exhausting, I mean it. How will we ever muster the energy to do this all again??

"Yes, CurveBall. That's a spoon. A spoon. Do you see the spoon? You have a blue spoon. We eat with a spoon. Mmmm. Eat! Do you want your spoon? Cary has a spoon. Dean has a spoon, too. Let's hold your spoon. Do you want to read the fun book we read yesterday about the dish running away with the spoon? Let's get the book and read it. Book. Mommy will go get the book. Mommy LOVES to read books. Do you like books?"

Lordhavemercy. I'm tired just thinking about it.

I pray I have the energy, the strength, the wherewithal to do for my ONE child what I did (and continue to do) for the two first-borns.

Which is why I ordered ... two books about that! :-)

18-month check-up

Cary and Dean went for their 18-month check-up yesterday, and here are the details:

Cary weighs 22 lbs., 8 oz. and is 32.5 inches tall.
Dean weighs 26 lbs., 2 oz. and is 33.5 inches tall.

It is still very interesting to me how much heavier Dean is than Cary, especially because (Dean's love of snacks notwithstanding) the two of them eat about the same amount of food. Neither is a very picky eater or eats like a bird. So it's clear that the two of them are just composed differently fundamentally, and also, likely, have very different metabolisms.
It'll be interesting to see how that plays out over the years.

Dr. Bodnar was VERY impressed with my boys' language skills. He said, with surprise, "How many words do they have?" And, then, when Dean asked for a tongue depressor by saying "Stick, pees," he asked if they were putting more words together, so I listed some of the phrases I could remember: "All done." "No more." "Bye-bye, truck." "More, please." "Bye-Bye, Da-Da." And Dr. Bodnar said, "They're putting that many words together already?"
I couldn't help but smile.
My boys' talkativeness is gratifying because I was so determined that they would NOT fall into the "preemies, twins, boys" trifecta of late-language-development that I had heard so much about. So we read, and read, and read, and read, and read, and read some more. And we talk, and talk, and talk, and talk! Oh, the talking! Frankly, it's exhausting (just being honest), but it is clearly paying some dividends, so far. So I will gladly talk/read myself hoarse.

Dr. Bodnar was no more help in the sleep-regression department than my blogfriends have been, but he did let me know that we were doing the right thing by continuing to reinforce their self-soothing skills, instead of acquiescing. Even if it means no one is really getting any sleep, for now, anyway, he assures me it's better in the long run, and that the boys will eventually get back to normalcy. (whatever that is)

As far as the nighttime bottle is concerned...well, I decided to come clean and tell our doctor that I had been too wimpy to let it go. I was honest about it -- it's just way too easy right now to get them to fall asleep at night, no crying, no fussing, no whining, no protesting. In fact, they clamor for their bottle and bedtime, and once they get 'em, they are quiet as church mice. It is ONE predictable thing we can depend on, and when you're dealing with crazy twin toddler terrorists, it is hard to give up that one thing. Does anyone feel me on this one?

To his credit, he did not make me feel like the WWM (world's worst mom). And he said that, of course, what we do as parents with the bottle is up to us. In the scheme of things, is it the worst thing we can do? No. But he did leave me with this scary little tidbit: If we try to stop the bottle now, it'll likely take about 10 days or so of bad nights to break the habit. If we wait until they're 2, it'll take twice as long.

20 nights of screaming? Lord have mercy. Nothing about that sounds appealing. Of course, I don't intend to wait until they're 2 to stop it, but then again, Lester and I don't really have an endgame planned. I suppose we need to get one.

One other thing that Dr. Bodnar reassured me about was this:

I have been secretly worried that Dean's tantrums and clinginess and crying and defiance and anger issues meant that he was emotionally marred in some way. I thought to myself, "Cary is so much more affable; what can we do to help Dean be more agreeable?"

Dr. Bodnar spent 45 minutes in the room with the boys before saying that, in his professional opinion, DEAN is the more typically-behaving baby, and CARY is the one who is atypical! Wha-what? Really?

He said for their age, Dean acting like one big raw nerve is pretty much what he's supposed to be doing right now, and Cary just la-la-la-ing through the day (for the most part) is just a lucky boon for us. This made me feel so much better, because I always think everyone else's toddlers seem so compliant and well-behaved and agreeable and cute and normal. I'm so glad to find out that my non-compliant, sometimes-well-behaved, occasionally-agreeable, almost always cute Deaniekins is also normal! Whew! I totally slept better last night.

On the flip side, Dr. Bodnar also jokingly said that it was good that Dean was slightly less talkative than Cary because (pointing to Cary, who was running his mouth a mile a minute) "you couldn't possibly have two of those!"

Imagine the thought!

At the end of the appointment, Dr. Bodnar declared my boys, "quite frankly, amazing," and I have to say, I couldn't agree more!

(Note: I don't have to bring them back to see the doctor for 6 months. SIX months! Wow. But we will see Dr. Bodnar again in February when Curve Ball is born, because he'll come to the hospital to examine her while I'm recovering. Curve Ball will get to meet Dr. Bodnar! Awwwww. Sooo sweet! I hope he'll think she's amazing, too!)

News flash!

Tonight, Dean said his first two-word sentence!

He said, "Bye-Bye, Da-Da!"

Exciting!!