They Keep Me Laughing, Oh Yes They Do

The big kids have kept me laughing this week.

No, these are not the big kids. I realize this. I am not that sleep-deprived.

Nothing to do with this post, just, you know, some outtakes from the latest Nudey Photoshoot.

Our street has speed bumps and the other night as we were driving home, Leo was grumbling about it being "too bumpy." (When Leo is tired and cranky it is truly stunning what he will find to grouse about.) That's when he asked me to get rid of the speed bumps.

"Mommy can't get rid of the speed bumps, Leo," announced Ellie. "She's not a builder!"

This morning I dashed upstairs for literally seconds to grab my phone, before we left for school. I don't like to leave the babies "free range" these days but in this case, Harry was eating Cheerios in his high chair and it was just Lucy on the carpet in the living room with Leo and Ellie who "promised to take care of her." I figured she'd be OK for a few seconds.

As I made my way to the bedroom where I knew my phone was, I heard this, from Ellie:

"OK, Leo, you get Lucy's arms, I'll get her legs."

Um, time to go back downstairs!

Because You Can Always Buy More Cheese

Keep your sense of humor.

This has become my new mantra. At least, I'm trying.

I am not always successful at doing so, but since the babies have become so mobile (and they aren't even walking yet! Ay yi yi!) and my home life has become, well, the word Ridiculous really sums it up. I've been trying to remind myself that humor is key.

Speaking of ridiculous:

This is where I spent most of this past Saturday. Manning the steps at our house which are apparently the Eighth Wonder of the World, according to Harry and Lucy. Lucy (aka Evil Kaneevil) likes to stand on that bottom step (while holding onto and rattling the step ladder we use as a baby gate--don't ask). Also? While she does this? She laughs at me.

Like I said. Humor. I need to keep it. Or maybe get it? Take last Sunday as another example.

It was a typical weekend day. A laundry list of To-Dos but also the frenzied! panic! to enjoy! and relax! (as much as that's possible these days). But it was also the day we had to switch three out of four car seats (the babies finally, blessedly graduated from the infant "bucket" seats while Ellie got a new "big kid" seat), and by "we" I mean Erin, of course, did all the actual car seat installation work.

While ye old switcheroo took place, the four of us (Harry was napping) provided moral support to Erin, who was busy doing the heavy lifting in the mini van, parked in the driveway. It was an idyllic scene, really. Leo and Ellie played in the front yard, reveling in the age old joy and fun that comes from an empty (in this case, new stroller) box. Yes, a discarded box in Leo's eyes almost always becomes some kind of vehicle. Car, truck or as was the case last Sunday, a rocket ship.

The rocket ship and the maps that Leo and Ellie drew, for said rocket ship.

While the two big kids played, I had Lucy in my lap in a rocking chair.

Then when she got squirmy, I put her on a blanket.

She's a very efficient crawler, but the prickly grass on our front lawn seems to slow her down, keeping her mostly confined to the blanket (at least as of last weekend). Fine. Two big kids frolicking nicely, one baby on a blanket. It's in these moments that I can feel relatively calm. Relaxed. This is totally doable, I think to myself.

And then the frenzied, quick-to-crescendo cry of Harry waking up from his nap begins to rattle through the baby monitor. Any semblance of relaxing or doableness is shattered.

And so begins the quick scramble. The run inside the house to grab the exersaucer so that I may park the second baby in it while I go grab the first baby (can't hold two babies with one set of arms, at least not at this stage). But before you can grab the first baby (who is now screaming very loudly), you first have to run the exersaucer outside, put the baby in it, then dash upstairs to rescue second baby. Note Lucy, in an exersaucer in the background of the waiting-to-be-installed car seat, above. I don't normally just randomly plop babies in exersaucers on the front lawn, I assure you this was a temporary arrangement, and she was not unattended.

Now comes the humor part.

At some point while all this was going on, Ellie went inside and came back out holding a block of delicious, extra sharp cheddar cheese (do you sense foreshadowing here?). She wanted a few slices as a snack. I admit, with all there is going on these days, the older kids don't always get their every snacking whim requited, which I don't think is entirely a bad thing. At that moment, with all I had going on, Ellie's desire for extra sharp cheddar was answered with "Get a string cheese" (unlike sharp cheddar, Ellie can get a string cheese all by herself). A disappointed Ellie disappeared back in the house and returned with her string cheese.

So Harry had his turn in the rocket ship. But before long, Leo and Ellie had tired of the empty box as rocket. Harry's delight (see above) in the box was short-lived. Two mobile babies on a blanket on the front lawn seemed to be entirely too much to ask. Then the babies began to enter their late afternoon, we're too cranky, we don't know what we want phase. Erin was almost finished with the car seat project and I got everyone back in the house to begin the journey toward dinner, bath, books, bed.

That's when I found the empty plastic bag with a few crumbs of extra sharp cheddar cheese.

The bag was sitting on the entry way table. You know, where everyone keeps their cheddar cheese (can you hear my eyes rolling around in my head?).

"Ellie! Why is the cheddar cheese bag here?" I demanded.

She scurried over to me, looked at the bag, then at me. "I don't know. I think I put it there."

"But where is the cheese?" I asked.

"Maybe Ruby ate it?"

Long time readers will know that Ruby is our dog who does serve one key purpose in our home: she is the official eater of all food off the kitchen floor so that I do not have to sweep the kitchen. Ever. So she does serve a purpose.

No, no, no, not the extra sharp cheddar! That I had just bought at Trader Joe's the day before! It would have been one thing if she'd just eaten a small block, but this was a brand new, hardly enjoyed block. It was so ridiculous, it was funny.

Which pretty much sums things up for me, right now.

"Someday, we'll look back on this and laugh," one wise reader once commented here, and I never forgot it. "Why not start now?"

What I Wish I'd Known

Every once in a while something happens when it comes to Leo that makes me think I wish I'd known.

I wish I'd known eight years ago when I sat in a hospital bed on the upper east side of New York City, sobbing about my "broken" first born baby, that a teacher would someday write this about Leo on his last day of second grade:

"It's been a great pleasure to have Leo in my class and watch him grow, mature, learn to read and become the wonderful student he is...I know he will continue to do exciting things...Leo is a very special little boy who has touched all of our lives in a most profound way..."

My heart is full and I am so very proud.

Party On, Babies

We had a little birthday celebration for the babies a few weeks ago. I take NO credit for these photos. They are by friend Steph who is an amazing photographer.

Like most first birthdays, the grand finale of the party was Harry and Lucy's first experience with a cupcake.

I made sure we sang "Happy Birthday" twice. No fair combining two people into one song, right?

Look at that little tongue. This baby girl kills me.

A little tastier than tofu! Who knew?

By the end of the party, Harry needed a drink. Who can blame him?

You can almost hear Leo: "Best Lucy and Harry everrrrr."

Of Kindergarten Previews and IEPs and One Big Giant Update Smorgasbord

It has been ages since I posted a good update.

Last week, Ellie attended her kindergarten "orientation." Word is, this gives the school a chance to meet the kids so they may properly balance the classes.

Ellie's new school is about five blocks from our house, a perfect little walk. I'm a little sad that she and Leo won't be at the same school. (The program he's in isn't offered at our neighborhood school.)

Ellie took her place by the list with her name on it. She seemed a little nervous ("Are you gonna come right back and get me when it's over?" but was relieved to see a familiar face from her preschool.

And yes, because I am a giant sap, I did get a little teary thinking about how quickly five years goes by and how The Days are Long But the Years Are Short and I'm going to turn around and be standing in that same courtyard watching Harry and Lucy line up for their kindergarten orientation and OMG Stop the Train I Want To Get Off...

Also? This is my first foray into "General Education" where you, you know, just sign up your kid for school and no meetings or evaluations by therapists and specialists, they just...go.

While Ellie did worksheets and drank a juice box, the parents were herded into the library for a talk by the principal about the curriculum and then we got the PTA sales pitch. Eight years into this parenting gig and I still often feel at these sorts of things that I'm a kid and what am I doing in a room full of all these parents? These grown-ups.

***

Leo got another hair cut.

I just want to reiterate how proud I am of him, that he can get a hair cut (or a blood test! I forgot to tell you about the blood draw last week that he sat stone still for) without a huge (any!) amount of stress or bargaining or bribery (OK, there is the little matter of the iPad that he holds during hair cuts but who cares? Bring on the iPad!) And best of all, I don't have to wear my combat boots or shin guards for these kinds of events anymore. Kids are just amazing. They're one way (in this case, terrified of anything hair cut or medical related), and they're one way and then one day? Something just clicks. And they change. And they surprise you in wonderful ways.

Scored this train table at a garage sale a few weeks ago. The giant box of Thomas trains went unsold so the seller threw those in too, when we went back to pick it. I've literally been searching for this kind of deal for years. The table has been a hit. It's one of the few toys Leo and Ellie play with together seamlessly (we put the table in Leo's room so that the babies can't get involved in the multiple, tiny pieces).

In other Leo news, we had the IEP meeting to discuss the next school year's placement. First of all, third grade? How did that happen? We're making a big change this fall. Leo will be moving from a mostly self-contained class of MCI ("mild cognitive delays") to the LLD (Language and learning disabilities) class. I got the sense from everyone involved that Leo's is a trajectory that doesn't happen often. Once MCI, always MCI? Anyway, acronyms and labels aside, we all agree this should be a good move for Leo. He will be challenged for sure and rather than be "safe and cozy" where he's been, his therapists, past and future teacher are excited about giving him the chance to spread his wings a bit.

Obviously as his mommy it's difficult for me to be completely objective but I've felt for some time that what holds Leo back the most is his language (intelligibility). Yes, he's a bit immature for his age too but this boy is smart. Yes, he learns at a slower pace and needs extra support, which is why the LLD class seems like a great fit. I've talked to many parents of kids with Down syndrome about this and have heard that there's a growing opinion out there that a lot of kids with Down syndrome aren't cognitively delayed but rather that they have learning disabilities.

It's all semantics I guess and it's easy to get sidetracked by all of that. What matters is that at this moment, Leo is poised for a big change that we think will be wonderful for him. His current teacher, the one who has seen him from kindergarten to this new step, she and I had a good little cry at the IEP meeting ('They should stock tissues at these!' I joked) when the school psychologist started in on how far Leo has come since his first day of kindergarten when my biggest concern was whether or not he'd escape out of his classroom (am I glad those days are over).

We have always wanted to challenge Leo, to give him the opportunity to "rise to the occasion." I think this new classroom is definitely an example of that.

***

Lucy is a cruising fool. Walking feels imminent but who knows. Her nickname for now is Pull To Stand.

Harry has gone from the butt scoot to the more traditional crab crawl. Also he is getting his molars (see above). One word: Ouchie. Also: Misery.

They have the whole downstairs to explore and yet I often find them like this, back-to-back inhabiting the same tiny space. My little bookends, so different, yet drawn to each other.

1 x 2 (Part Two)

I have started and stopped this post many times. I don't even know where to begin. But really, I've been telling this story all year, this first year of twins.

The first year for any baby is momentous, incredible when you think about it.

In one short year (depending on what time it is--in the middle of the night? It's looong) they go from this:

June 1, 2011

and this

To this:

and this

The first of many cupcakes, I'm sure.

But the first year of two babies? It's flown by at such a speed that I almost feel like someone stole a year of my life. That has a negative connotation, but I imagine you know what I mean. It's been a leetle busy.

With two babies, you can't help but compare personalities. And they've been different since the day we met them.

Why yes, Lucy is snacking on a lemon. Why do you ask?

Harry, who started out with a shock of black hair and brown eyes (his hair has softened to a caramely-almost-blonde- but his eyes remain firmly brown--I had to have four kids to get one with my eye color), has grown from an uncomfortable, fussy newborn with misery (for all) inducing reflux, to a jolly, low-key, independent guy, often content to sit and play with blocks and toys with buttons and tags. Until he's not, of course.

He's very much a watcher. A thinker. He takes in the world around him, studies things earnestly, but he's also quick to smile and laugh. He has a deep little voice: "A-duh" is his favorite thing to say right now. He also finds Leo to be the most hilarious person in his entire universe. All his big brother has to do is breathe and Harry comes cackling.

He started out as the "dominant one," stealing every toy he could from Lucy. Now? She takes from him, he whimpers, looks up at me (or the nearest warm body), whines, cries...well, you get the picture. He's a bit...sensitive.

Lucy, who came to us with virtually no hair and blue eyes, has blossomed into a little social butterfly. She smiles at everyone and anyone and starts every day with a gigantic smile on her face. She is the baby of whom you say "I'll have what she's having!"

She's also the confirmed Family Daredevil, most apt to be found in the corner, amongst electrical cords, trying to take down a lamp. Or an end table. Tell her to stop and she laughs at you. She mocks you, she really does. This weekend I dubbed her Evil Kaneevil. While Ellie was the baby who did exactly what she was told, I fear that Lucy is the one that says Oh yeah? And quickly runs in the opposite direction. The rate of her gross motor development is astounding (these crazy 46-chromosome kids, I tell you!), one day she's pulling up, the next day she's pushing a tiny musical table across the room (walking by Monday? It honestly wouldn't shock me).

Speaking of needing four kids to get one with brown eyes? I also apparently needed four kids to get one with curly hair. The weather around here has recently turned humid and with that has come proof of Lucy's ability to frizz and curl and ohmygoodness I am LOVING it. Finally, a child to share products and commiserate with.

Everyone I've met (at Target, at the park, at the pediatrician's office, at Costco) who knows anything about twins has said the same thing to me:

"If you can just make it through the first year..."

And well? I guess we did just that.

Harry and Lucy, your impending arrival terrified me and your presence has turned our lives upside down in the best possible way. You've taught me about our little family's boundless capacity for love and I'm proud to say I have a PhD in sleep deprivation.

And I know the best is only yet to come.

Happy first birthday, guys!

1 x 2 (Part One)

Harry and Lucy, June 1, 2011

This post is almost a week late, unfortunately, and I hate that I'm tardy to commemorating one of the biggest days our family has seen in quite some time. But, better late than never?

Happy first birthday, Harry and Lucy!

More soon.