It Was So Hot, Wheely It Was...

So the boys were begging to go “out” today – Cammy had me “in hand”, leading me to the door to reinforce his plight. I had seen on the news that the heat index for our area today was expected to be around 105°F. I don’t know if it was the unrelenting pleas of toddlers in stereo, but despite the Texas hell-temp and against my better judgment, I caved. We made it about halfway through our customary neighborhood trek, and just short of seeing steam radiate from the pavement and not remembering where my house was, I relented and made a bee-line, like a mom on a mission, back to A/C heaven.

I unloaded the boys and folded the double stroller, as usual, plopping it onto the floor in the corner of our dining room. It’s not unusual for Taiter to stand by, waiting to spin the stroller wheels into "madness”. Today, I wanted to use this as an opportunity to teach to both kids, so I quickly grabbed Cammy and held both of their hands toward my magical display.

“See? Wheeeelsss…. Spinning…spin, spin, spin…wheeeelsss…”

They were mildly amused and seemed to placate me as I spoke, possibly in delirium from the heat. 

“Okay,” I thought, “now to find some other wheels.”

I rummaged through their playroom bins, trying to grab examples of different toys with wheels. (Did I say in an earlier post that pre-planning was the key? Okay, I amend that tip. Sometimes, you have to work off the cusp. Work with me, people.) I swiftly nabbed as many examples of wheels as I could find and dashed back into the dining room, before their attention could escape me.

Their concentration was suddenly interrupted when this crazy, lunatic woman ran into the room and shoved vehicles of all sorts into their faces. Taiter was instantly taken by the truck because he could make a “vrooomm” sound. Cammy vied for the same toy, but in an effort to save at least one, was redirected back to the other examples. (I had lost Taiter for now.)

 

“Cammy, see? Wheels on the tractor. Wheels on the train. Wheels on the car.” 

His eyes shifted from one object to the other, as to say, “Which do I feel like playing with, hmmm…” 

I thought I had lost his attention, when he grabbed the train and made his way back to the stroller. He touched both sets of wheels and – wait for it – generalized!!! Not a tremendous step, but a good breakthrough for a mom who is not a professional educator (in the eyes of the State, at least).

Now onto Taiter. By this time, he was in the living room, vrooming around. “Look, wheels,” I vainly reminded him. 

With no real response, I thought he was deep in imagination (because that is one of Taiter’s sweet attributes), so I reluctantly decided to reinforce some more of this concept with Cammy. Next thing I know, Taiter is in the dining room, truck in tow (no pun intended) and spinning the stroller wheels! Two for two! (Notice Cammy's deep appreciation for attention resulted in the abandoned train.)

Maybe they won’t remember this tomorrow, but when they see Mommy’s truck wheels, or the “wheels on the bus” or any other round, rubber, treaded object, I am sure they will hear those ominous words – “Look, wheeeelsss…”

I Thought I Knew My Shapes

The boys LOVE playing with the iPad that my mother (Grandma) leaves over at our house; we play with it almost every day. They especially love Toddler Teasers, an app that announces a shape and encourages them to choose the right shape to earn "stickers" on a reward page. It seems Cammy knows pretty much all the shapes, and tries to beat Taiter to the punch. Taiter is a little more laid back. I think he knows more shapes than he is letting on, because he likes to touch all the shapes, just to hear the guy say "Try again".

To extend on the shape concept, Grandma suggested we show some paper shape cut-outs and see if the boys could identify them. Additionally, I gathered some objects with those same shapes to see if they could pair the paper and object shapes together. This actually could have been an activity for me as I combed through their toys for objects.

“Miniature feeding trough. Is that a rectangle? No. Maybe, no...what the heck is that? Okay focus, Court...”

Trying to remember the shapes that were on the app, I cut out a few colorful circles, squares, rectangles, ovals, stars, crescent moons, and hexagons over the breakfast table amidst intermittent leg-hugs and groans. (And, yes, I forgot the obvious triangle.)

Anyway, trying to get the kids at this stage to stop what they are doing and get them “criss-crossed applesauce” (I learned this is what the teachers say to sit Indian-style) on the living room floor is, well, pretty much like herding cats. Two over-stimulated, feral cats – especially after I pulled the shapes out and began:

“Okay here is a circle. Here is a rectangle. Here is a hexagon…see? It has 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…8… Okay, well, um, this is an octagon. We’ll just save that for later.” (Nice cutting, Mom.)

I was glad to see how much they did love to hold and say the shapes. We played “Guess the Shape” first and they were pretty much in line with their progress on the iPad. Then I pulled out the other objects, knowing I had a very short window of attention span for anything else.

This leads me to a side-topic. From the last two years, one of the most important lessons I have learned is that timing is everything, especially with multiples. Not just pertaining to their schedule, but also to mine. My astute, culminating observations to share, especially for the other type A’s out there? Pre-plan, don’t stress when there’s a melt-down, anything can be canceled, it will not (and does not have to) be perfect, and have a contingency plan. And maybe a glass of wine later. But I digress.

I quickly plumaged through my arsenal and began the demonstration. I compared a toy plate to the circle and a play potato chip to the oval. While Taiter was content getting my attention with his plunder, Cammy surprised me with precise placement when asked about the shape of the plate.

My lesson learned, however, is not to use a square or rectangular book for comparison, because the book will win out and you will lose your audience immediately. Choose really, boring toys. My octo, I mean hexagon, went out the window, and well, you try finding a star or moon-shaped toy!

I considered this activity a mild success. At least they seemed to enjoy it and the TV was turned off, which was a nice reprieve. After about five minutes of interest, I was left sitting on the floor with my amateur-shaped cut-outs on the floor, crinkled and torn. Cammy went off to play with a calculator featuring a propped solar panel. I was trying to be quick-witted, and wanted to ask, “Okay, what shape is that?” Seeing as how I couldn’t even figure it out, I went ahead and called it quits.

Uh, Oh, Cheerios

The great thing about trying to get your toddler to engage in something STEM is that the curiosity is already there. They are trying to figure things out; it just helps to have a little guidance and then application.

Such an example was yesterday. The boys pulled out these formula-holding container thingies and had more fun running around the house, flipping the lids up and down (and ignoring the mounds of endless toys awaiting them in their playroom). On the kitchen floor, from another activity, the boys had some Cheerios left over on the ground (yes, I admit, some found their way into their mouths)... 

Anyway, they simultaneously started carefully filing the Cheerios into the narrow mouth of the formula containers, one by one, watching them pile up inside. Once finished and proud of what they had accomplished, they both started shaking the containers, expecting their contents to just come spilling back out and were understandably frustrated when they didn't. With a little guidance, they were shown how, to get them out, they needed to turn them upside-down, lean the containers a little to the side, and shake gently.

As they gleamed with excitement to have their whole-grain treasures back in their possession, the game started all over again. Suddenly, I realized my first mistake. In case it could lead to my undoing, it might be prudent to think an activity through before providing a revelation of mechanical insight. Second, now that these two have either learned it or worse, filed it away for a surprise attack later, what objects in the house must now be added to the growing list of contraband we already have?  I quickly flipped through my mental file of poison, heights, and sharp objects, and since nothing related to “dumping from an accessible container” came to mind, I calmed myself down and finished the activity. 

I need to pull the containers out again to see if they retained the engineering solution for reacquiring lost cereal. From there, I’ll try translating to a different object where we similarly manipulate something to empty its contents. Thinking to my advantage, maybe they'll help me find some money lost in my purse.

Which Has Most?

Well, today is Friday, the day I give myself permission to chill out between kids and home. The boys' gourmet breakfast consisted of heat 'em up waffles with syrup and milk in sippy cups, consumed at a steady pace between bouts of Super Why! I mentioned before that the boys probably get too much TV, especially in the morning, so I will continue to lay out my excuses, although, I know, I need to work on it.

Not much time for activities today, but did manage to fit in a short game of "which has most" with waffle pieces in their compartmentalized plates. They seemed interested in the game and for the most part, answered correctly as I changed the contents around to confound them.



My mom, who is a PPCD (or Preschool Program for Children with Disabilities) teacher, and now also, a pre-K teacher, suggested I should offer "which has more" and move to "which has most" later. You will hear her input "most" from any other input I receive (probably "more" than I can use), but she does have a lot of experience to offer. I take it with a grain of salt, and appreciate that I have such a useful reference at my fingertips.

A Little Background on the Twinadoes

We (family and friends) have been very diligent to read to the boys since they were little babies. We have tons of books, flash cards, alphabet magnets, you name it. We do role play, ask lots of questions and sing a lot (with and without music). We never purchased any Baby Reading products from any infomercial, but they do probably get a little too much TV. (Can I get a pass if it's mostly educational? No? Okay, I am working on it.)

Cammy and Taiter: Classifying leaves? Or skillfully
distracted from the rather large longhorns 50 feet away?

They are almost 21 months now, and know all their uppercase and lowercase letters. Both Taiter and Cammy seem to have a mechanical mindset. Around a year old, Taiter seemed to advance Cammy in gross motor skills, and Cammy seemed to have better fine motor skills. Later, Cammy caught up, but is also speaking more now, whereas Taiter still sounds most words out with just the first letter.

Personality wise, Taiter is my cuddle-bug and does not like new things (people, places) until he can warm up to them. He can throw a mean tantrum, but is sweet as can be if he has his thumb and blanket. He gives kisses and hugs very freely. Cammy is our comedian and instigator. He reads into social queues and responds very appropriately. If I ask him for a kiss, he runs away and makes me chase him down. He has 101 faces, all of them adorable. (Okay, I hope to end my biases for both kiddos here.)

I know this is a really boring post, but I hope it will provide a good baseline for any questions you may have. If not, feel free to ask! Having twins really is a social experiment every day!

Green Bean, Hot Dog, or a Piece of Cheese

“Green bean, hot dog, or a piece of cheese—choose one.” This was the mantra I repeated aloud to my 21-month old Taiter at the table today, as we entered a sporting game of Battle of the Wills. I was confident that my cunning wisdom of providing choices would end with at least one piece of food in the mouth, ensuring a glorious victory for Mom and reaffirming my natural knack for parenting.

Over an hour later, I picked up the cold food and soggy cheese, and while now weary and partially deaf, I licked my wounds and reassessed my confidence. While this was definitely not one of the prouder moments of my little angel, it was precious and timely, in that it reminded me how much these little guys really are still babies.  

As I embark on this personal quest to intellectually stimulate my little geniuses, it’s apparent I just might not raise a Nobel Laureate. But more importantly, maybe we will discover smiles and laughter, and that my bonds with each of them (and theirs to each other) will strengthen to last a lifetime. After all, what could really be more important?