If you still can’t tell our twins apart you shouldn’t worry about it. Eirik still regularly calls his brother by the wrong name.

Eirik loves grapes and is wicked with a snowball. He walks around with his hands in his pockets or – when no pockets are available – behind his back. He’s fairly well potty-trained and when he feels the urge he yells, “Running to the potty!” and then pulls down his pants and fast-waddles to the bathroom from wherever he happens to be in the house.

Both boys love airplanes, helicopters, and all diggers. “Airplane! Airplane!” They shout whenever one flies over (5,372 times a day). Even when a plane is in earshot, Eirik is completely absorbed in its presence. Time stops until it soars out of hearing range. This is a problem at nap-time when someone is bound to fly over just as they settle and render them unable to sleep for another half-hour.

My babies are suddenly big enough to play with big sister and to develop kid culture at our house. They pile yoga mats, blankets and pillows into a big pile or enlist my help to drag mattresses around the house so they can jump off of beds, stools, or even the window ledge (usually right before bed when everyone is most likely to get hurt). Mostly I stay out of it except to make sure the top of the dresser stays off-limits.

Eirik was slow to warm up to this game. He would climb up and cry from the high place until Avery took his hands to help him jump. Then he’d erupt into peals of laughter, scrambling to climb back up and do it again. He now jumps in full confidence – belly first – like a skydiver.

I’m experimenting with dropping the nap to make bedtime easier but Eirik falls apart around 2 pm. I swaddle him and ask if he wants to be my cute little baby – a game the kids made up. He is out like a light.

The bedtime sillies are totally coo-coo-bananas these days. Eirik has my sense of humor. At bedtime he snuggles right up to where our noses touch before he pulls back and asks, “…Waffles?”

I take the bait – “Waffles?”

“Waffles.” says Eirik.

He chooses a different word or phrase each time we play. Another was, “hot water?”

We both think this game is hilarious. “Shhh!” I whisper between giggle fits. “Shhh! It’s time for bed!” But I can not refuse him the echo: “Hot water?”

In the mornings, Eirik loves to play make coffee and go to the job-site. He puts on his boots and starts building; I drink the coffee.

He loves art and asks me for colors. He is working out red, blue, orange, yellow, and the like; but if you hold up a marker and ask, “What color is this?” he’s likely to yell, “Colors!”

He loves making circles. He draws them. He orders them up in whipped cream on his pancakes. If he’s in a pool, he swims them.

Eirik also, since yesterday, rides a pedal bike in circles. Toren has been riding a pedal bike for a few months already, but it’s become more obvious to his brother now with spring upon us. Toren just figured out how to push-start himself, and stop, and can ride two-miles without problem. I kept training wheels on Eirik’s bike because… well, he’s 2.5″ shorter and 5 lbs lighter. When he falls down, he’ll lie there with an attitude that says, I guess I live here now, until someone comes along to pick him up.

Toren uses what could pass for a full adult vocabulary and can zip up his own jacket. It’s no surprise he’s riding a bike. I thought, Eirik, you’re two-and-a half, man… no pressure.

Then yesterday I took these guys for a ride. Halfway out, Eirik decided that he wanted his brother’s bike and that was final. I gave him a short ride with support; then we went back to the usual system so we could move forward. No. Eirik was having none of it. He kicked off his boots and flew at his brother in a rage. I held him back, helped Toren get started, and told him to Ride! Eirik, running after his brother in stocking feet, chased him down the road in attempt to knock him off and take his bike. Toren, who was very afraid of being bitten, kept going. I eventually picked Eirik up by his ankles and carried him home upside down on my back so he couldn’t hurt me.

It wasn’t a regular tantrum – it was heartbreak. I told Eirik that as soon as we retrieved his bike I’d take the training wheels off it. I didn’t expect him to ride it, but he got on, pedaled hard, and never looked back. A week later he was riding one-handed and waving to passing cars. He’s probably still out there; riding circles.

A conversation between babies

The other night, Toren was doing something odd with the blankets over me in bed.

E: “What doing?”

T: “I’m making a tent for the boobies.”

E (taking this information in stride): “I’m making a tent for a poop.”

T: “A tent for poop?”

E: “I’m making a poop.”

Things that are cute when one child does them but obnoxious when three children do them together:

• Sit on my lap 4-eva
• Koala cling to my body
• Ride around the house on my foot

• Wake up afraid in the night
• Straws
• Yell, Coo-ee! Mama! Wipe me!
• Insist, I do it myself.
• Say, No thank you, when it’s time to brush teeth
• Help themselves to fruit
• Sneak tastes from the mixing bowl
• Water play in the sink
• Demand a particular spoon, bowl, cup, stool, etc.
• Eat crackers in the car
• Push buttons on the washing machine, dish washer, blender, etc.
• Disappear three silicone spatulas for over a month (?)
• Pour extra soap in the bubble bath when I’m not looking
• Splash water out of the tub
• Bike-ride through puddles
• Leave the front door open EVERY time they enter or exit
• Nibble corners from the butter
• Tear picture cards off the fridge for a closer look
• Chuck books at me, ordering, Read it!

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