You learn things about your kids when you share a room with them. Like, the fact that Finkle sounds like he’s eating sunflower seeds when he grinds his teeth at night. Actually, that knowledge tidbit is compliments of Chris -- I wear earplugs to block out those kinds of adorable sounds. What my earplugs haven’t been able to block out is Dootle singing through the alphabet song, and standing on his head, and shushing his brother for talking when the lights are out.
Those things are harder to block out. What amazes me is that although Dootle is a livewire during the day, when the lights go out and we tell him it’s night-night time he sweetly and quietly lays down in his crib and waits for sleep to come. Sometimes it takes longer than others, and he’ll spend up to two hours flipping around in his crib, sticking his feet up into the air, whispering his numbers, and of course… reciting the alphabet. The only time he fusses is if he drops his binkie.
I know, I know, he’s a little old to be so dependent still. But I haven’t had the heart or the energy to take it away from him yet. With Finkle keeping me so occupied during the night hours I really don't want to risk any more disturbances.
Finkle, on the other hand, doesn’t care at all for pacifiers. He has one built onto his hand and it serves him just fine. Especially if it has a hair or three wrapped around it. During the day he walks around the house doing whatever it is that one-year-olds do, and when he runs across a hair he immediately puts it into his mouth with his thumb. If I serve him a meal and it happens to have a hair in it, he leaves the food and goes for the hair. It’s gross, but really funny. When we’re at our friend’s house who has dogs, he likes to go around picking dog hairs off the furniture and eating them. Longer hairs are preferable, though, because he can have one end wrapped around his thumb and in his mouth, while the other end hangs into his fist and gets caressed by his baby fingers.
|I spotted him taking a bite out of every plum in the fruit bowl.|
He’s recently starting to discover his inner toddler. It comes out in the form of squeals and half-hearted fits when he doesn’t get his way. I have a hard time not laughing, because it goes against his charming personality. When I do focus on him and tell him firmly that he’s not acting appropriately (and that he’s not even two yet, so stop it already) he smiles and walks away. Even when I correct him he doesn’t always cry. He’ll pause and reflect, sometimes chuckle, and walk way. That’s when he’s feeling rested and chipper, though. If he’s tired and sensitive the slightest thing will make his face melt into heart-rending sadness, and huge crocodile tears roll down his cheeks. Kids have such an incredible ability to go from okayness into wails of sorrow. Amazing, really. I guess somewhere along the line they grow out of it and learn to express sadness more stoically like good adults.
Until then, I'll just have to put up with their pesky emotions. ;)
Well, I just noticed that it's dinner time and I'm hungry and there's no maid in the kitchen making us all dinner, so...... guess that means I'll just have to find a snack.