Doo-Da!

Pictures coming, I promise.

Until then, a montage of what our week looked like:

Oliver has two settings: asleep or screaming. Not generally a very happy camper. Which makes it really hard to post a blog. He is screaming right now, in fact.

Milo is hilarious and infuriating. Hilarious: pretty much everything he says. “I have nipples. Mommy has nipples, Daddy has nipples, eveeebodeee has nipples.” He has also just discovered money, which he calls “monies,” probably because he often has more than one coin and he thinks that is how to make the word plural. I asked him what he was doing when he was playing very quietly earlier this week, and he responded, “I just playin’ wis my monies. I YUV monies!” After a nap today, he said wistfully, “I dream of cookies. I yuv cookies.” So, naturally, we made cookies. Infuriating: how he has suddenly become completely territorial at the playground, yelling “NOOOOOOO!!!!! Dat’s Miyo’s toy! Miyo’s playin’ wis dat!” at another kid who is playing with something Milo played with 20 minutes ago on the other side of the playground/sandbox/etc. But even when being infuriating, Milo is hilarious. Case in point? “Doo-da!”

“Doo-da!” (emphasis on the first syllable- much like an Adam Sandler character would say) is what Milo says when he is really, REALLY mad. He accomplanies “doo-da!” with a hand throw, as if he is throwing an imaginary pie in your face. “Doo-da!” might not sound that fierce, but trust me, when Milo says it, you know he is mad. Kids tend to stop what they are doing when he doo-da’s. And it’s really quite versatile since it is jibberish.

If Milo gets frustrated with a puzzle, “Doo-da!” If he doesn’t want to get out of the bathtub, “Doo-da!” If Oliver has been screaming for a good hour with no signs of letting up, “DOO-DAAAAA!” (which, by the way, makes the situation soooo much better).

Milo can speak perfectly well, and is very easy to understand for a two-year-old. But sometimes jibberish is so much more expressive.

We are falling into a good routine around here, though I’m not going to lie, taking care of two rambuncious little boys is no picnic. I feel like a rockstar one minute, then like I am going to jump out the window the next. But I do feel so blessed to have these two quirky little guys. I can’t wait to get to know Oliver’s personality better once he comes out of the infantile crazies.

Crying baby. Doo-da.