I said, “No you’re not, go to sleep C.”

This morning when they got up, I realized they had switched shirts last night as part of their attempted deception. They cackled happily when I said “Did you guys switch shirts?” and were rather impressed that I hadn’t been fooled. “How did you know I was C?” he asked. I told him Mommy can always tell them apart. “You can’t fool me. But don’t do that to your teachers.”

There are bunches of mermaid purses, and quite a few pieces of horseshoe crabs (C is using one as a shovel). Winter beaches are always interesting. The surfers are out, though the waves are nothing to brag about as usual. A few people on horseback, which you don’t see much of in Va Beach. C is a little nervous of the horses. I don’t blame him, my feelings about horses are well known. Apparently there’s a place at 27th Street now where you can rent a horse by the hour or half hour. Insert your own dirty joke here.

They’ve already got the Christmas light sculptures up, too. They’re mildly interesting at best, but driving down the boardwalk (normally not allowed) to see them at night is kind of fun.

Stopped at Dairy Queen at 17th on the boardwalk so the boys could have “banilla ice cream on the cone”. They proclaimed it m’num and are eating up. It’s a good day for adventure. And banilla ice cream.

Killing pygmies:

Juice is m’num:

C says he doesn’t want to be five, because it’s not his favorite number. He wants to be four. D is cool with being five.

Weapon X likes to tell me he’s going to keep me “porever”. He told me after the graham cracker incident above, “Mama I won’t hurt you, I just hug you and kiss you.” Before you aww too much, he also likes to take flying leaps at me unexpectedly, usually landing knees-first. This is a kid who’s going to jump out of planes someday with a Navy SEAL team, I just know it. When I was pregnant, X hid from the ultrasounds for a long time so we couldn’t see if he was a boy or a girl, so my brother nicknamed him Weapon X. Upon reflection, this was oddly prophetic.

They’re done with speech therapy for the summer now, though I still do the constant pronunciation and grammar reinforcements of course. We’re leaving on Tuesday for three weeks in San Diego with the Hubby, then we’ll be back home  for like a week before school starts. They’re doing speech therapy at school, it’s supposed to be twice a week for half an hour each time. School speech therapists don’t get as good results as private therapists in our experience – they don’t always work with the kids according to their specific diagnosis, even when they’re told to in an IEP. So we’re in the pool for the local university clinic, which is the only private therapy we can afford. We did therapy there during July and saw some improvement since they used apraxic specific techniques. I’ll be pushing the school more, as usual, to do what’s best for the boys rather than what’s expedient for them.

It’s hard sometimes, but they are making improvements, and the neurologist was positive about their future, which apparently he’s not normally very positive. I quite liked him, but the school STs told me they usually get parents complaining. I get along with doctors, even though I don’t trust them. The boys’ dentist told me he was glad I wasn’t one of those moms who freak out, that I kept it together and was calm, when Weapon X whacked his mouth and impacted a tooth (he was doing a flying leap at a friend’s house and landed on her coffee table. He makes me tired).

So that’s where we’re at. Hopefully we’ll continue to see leaps of improvement through their kindergarten year.

Alpha: You can’t go to Washington with me, doggy. You have to stay here.

X: There no dog food in Washington?

Alpha: I have to go to Washington. Good-bye.

We got there a bit early, so we sat in the bleachers and watched a class of tweens doing stretching exercising and junk. The boys watched them for a few minutes and looked around at the girls working on the uneven bars and stuff, and I could see the little gears working in their brains. Finally D turned to me and said, “Mama, why there no boys?” I was like, uh…. Boys do gymnastics too. They were the only boys in their little Parks & Rec class too. Basically the entire boys in the building, barring dads and a baby or two who were waiting for little girls to be finished. Yep.

So, I sent them into the class, which it turns out I’m not allowed to be in for (haha! An hour to sit quietly and read a book with no one touching me or wanting me to get up and get them a popsicle/sandwich/drink of water!). I had forgotten my book so I sat and watched belly dance videos on my iPod until they came out. They said they had a great time and the teacher said they were really good. They always are for other people.

D says he has a new girlfriend in his gymnastics class. He’s a pimp.