Everything Happens for a Reason

Hair Today: Sweet Victories

2012-01-29T17:04:00.000-08:00

Before...

Going...

Still going...

Pause to admire handsomeness...

And, gone!

Long time readers of this blog realize the enormity of these images.

Leo got a haircut. And he didn't freak out. He didn't cry. We didn't have to hold him down. I don't have bruised shins. I didn't cry (well, I actually did, but they were tears of joy and pride). I could go on and on.

Still a little confident on the heels of a recent visit to the pediatrician wherein Leo allowed the doctor to examine his ears (the other historical source of hysteria), we decided to revisit the notion of a real haircut. Obviously we've trimmed it here and there as he'd allow (usually in front of a piece of cake with him holding an iPhone while "America's Funniest Home Videos" played in the background, anything to quell Leo's haircutting demons). I used to joke that perhaps Leo was some kind of medical phenomenon, that he had nerve endings at the tip of his hair, he would get that upset and there was just no talking reason to him.

But, try, try again, fail, try again, right? Give kids/babies the chance to surprise you and nothing is permanent (two of my favorite pieces of parenting advice).

All of that, and Leo's hair was starting to look downright silly.

I should also credit Steve Jobs in my little Thank You speech. Getting to use the iPad (Super Stickman Golf to be exact) was the deciding factor in my opinion, that finally allowed Leo to relax enough and be distracted, something no amount of cake or DVDs could ever offer.

It's like almost everything with Leo. Everything has taken longer, been a long time coming (sitting up, crawling, walking, talking). But it all happened. It's all happening. He just does it in his own time. And certain things just don't come easy to him.

And that's what makes these little seemingly simple victories (a haircut, yes, a haircut made me cry happy tears today) that much sweeter.

Who's Going to Live Here When We Don't? and Other Profound Questions

2012-01-20T18:59:00.000-08:00

The other day, Ellie was standing rightnexttome (as she is apt to do) as I changed Lucy's diaper in the babies' room. Ellie was flitting about as she is also apt to do. Rocking in the rocker, skipping around the room. That girl does not stop.

"Mommy, who's going to live in this room when the babies don't?" Ellie asked.

I reached for a new outfit for Lu. She's petite but we don't call her "Toot-in-Pants" for nothing. That girl can make a mess.

"Well, when the babies get older, I think you and Lucy will share this room." The nursery used to be Ellie's room and I was thinking that's what she was getting at, that she wanted her old room back.

"No, but what happens after that?" Ellie persisted. "Who's gonna be in that room after that?"

"Well, at some point, you'll get bigger and grow up and live with your family."

I mean, it's true, right?

Well. This was not the thing to say to a four and a half year old. Because as soon as I said it, Ellie's lip began to quiver and the tears came.

"But I don't want to live anywhere else! I always want to live with you guys!"

Honestly, I often forget she is four. That I need to be careful what I say. I went on to assure her that she could live with us for as long as she wanted. Forever and ever, if she wanted. And then she gave me a hug. So I guess we're good now.

In other news, it's the end of January and I'm happy to report our first snow fall.

Aside from an early morning trek to Disney on Ice (that was almost cancelled due to said snow--oh the irony!) we've had a cozy weekend.

Leo loves to read to the babies (see above). Speaking of Leo, his speech is coming along. He has a few new phrases including one that allows him to argue with me even more effectively (when met with me denying him something, most likely his beloved cheese crackers (which I'm constantly running out of): "Yeah you do Mommy!" He's also added "I love (fill-in-the-blank)" but it's usually a food item (grapes, pizza, cake). He also often hugs whatever he's referring to. Yes, you can hug grapes. Did you know? But he's also started to say, on his own accord, "I love you Mommy/Mama/LucyandHarry" (yes that's one word in Leo's world). And, well, speech delays and all, that's the kind of sentence that is truly worth waiting for.

Intermission.

Ellie danced in her seat throughout the entire show but when the performance was over, she announced she did not have a good time because "there weren't any princesses and Tinkerbelle didn't say hi to her."

Can you hear my eye balls rolling around? All I can say is, she'd adjust her criticism a bit when we take her to DISNEYWORLD in March (more on that, I promise).

The babies are good. Harry has his seventeenth cold. Poor dude. Every time I think I am going to let him CIO in the middle of the night, he gets sick and I just don't have the heart to let a sick(ish) baby cry. But man, I am tiiiiiiiired. I've said it before and I'll say it again:

It's a good thing they're cute.

Notes From the Weekend

2012-01-15T17:12:00.000-08:00

Learning to sit up.

Big brother knows all.

Waiting in the car.

Some of us slept.

Leo and his dinosaur.

"Is she always this happy?" asked the woman at Target/mom at gymnastics/neighbor from down the street.

Pretty much, yes. I know. It's ridiculous.

Aaaaand there are too many of us to fit in a frame (and we're not even all here!).

Oh January, You Are Not December

2012-01-13T14:29:00.000-08:00

I have no idea why Ellie looks so pathetic here. Harry? He's just hungry.

Don't ask me why I put a cap on Harry for breakfast. Why not?

We are having the winter that wasn't. It's been soooooo mild. Note the photo above that Ellie took (one of the nerdier pictures I've taken in my lifetime but hey, I can count on one hand how many pictures I have of myself in the last seven months so here's proof that I do indeed exist). And Ellie took it with my new and improved phone/camera, so that's a bonus.

The other day a Christmas song started playing from a leftover Christmas CD still in the car player and I felt all wistful. I don't know if it was because of the babies or because I was home but the holidays just flew by this year. Also it was never cold enough to really feel like the holidays. We had a number of 60 degree days. It was just weird. And here we are smack in my least favorite time of year. Bleak (sort of) mid-winter. With the closest holiday being Martin Luther King Day (no offense, he was a great guy but it's just not all that festive). And I'm having a hard time getting behind decorating for Valentine's Day which is more than a month away.

Switching gears: I'm on a roasted vegetable kick. Brussels sprouts, zucchini, brocolli. If it doesn't move I Will Roast It. And I just discovered the most amazing fruit and vegetable market with the best prices. And since Leo eats grapes year-round, even when they are $2.99 a pound. I much prefer .79 cents a pound. The above haul? I got for $38.

Am I really writing about the price of grapes? I'm sorry. I'm boring even myself here.

Moving on.

Lu is now a full-time tummy sleeper. She's pretty funny about the rolling. Put her on her back and she instantly turns to her stomach as if to say "Oh I don't think SO! I'm way above that. Don't even think about putting me on my back."

Duly noted.

Change of Plans: Update

2012-01-07T17:25:00.001-08:00

Leo started spending time in his new classroom at school. He's doing language arts (reading and writing) in the "Language and Learning Delays" classroom. Am I the first parent in history to be thrilled that their kid is in this classroom? It's a big step for Leo and we are so proud of him. Friday he came home with some worksheets that included synonyms which made me teary because, synonyms? Seems hard. I don't think I was doing synonyms in second grade. His teacher emailed me and said that Leo was very excited about the fact that he has his own desk in this classroom. Of course he was.

In other news:

Hi, my name is Lucy and I'M TEETHING.

You'll notice the alfresco Exersaucer photos here because? It was 65 degrees here today. In January. Considering last year at this time we had oh, about two feet of snow on the ground, I am not complaining, not at all.

Yup, still teething and yet, happy.

Odds & Ends: Starting the New Year, Still Wrapping Up the Old

2012-01-05T18:39:00.001-08:00

Oh, hi.

I used to be so good about taking little notes and remembering things I wanted to write about. And then, well. You know.

In other news, my sister's alma mater won the Rose Bowl. We are all very spirited about the Oregon Ducks. You can take the girl (and the boys) out of Oregon, but you can't take the Oregon out of us.

-Part of of my absence so far in the new year is related to the fact that the babies are having sleep troubles again, earlier in the evening (as opposed to middle of the night, well actually, in addition to middle of the night. Fun!). So my ability to finish a task in the early evening has been sorely affected. Lucy, or as I like to call her, "Flipper" figured out how to flip onto her stomach in her crib (and apparently, in her sleep). She then wakes up furious, confused and, well, screaming. I never much minded one screaming baby, but two? And when one wakes the other up? Not cool.

-As much as we all love the holidays and winter break, I think we were all a little relieved to get back to routine. Although I hesitate to call what we experienced a "break." Leo and Ellie both attended camps which were fabulous but for for the babies and me it meant practically living in the car for a week as we shuttled Prince Leo and Princess Ellie back and forth. It was of course worth it. They were occupied and enriched and best of all exhausted at the end of their busy little days.

-We finally had a cold snap. We experienced some "teens" weather. It honestly barely felt like winter until this week therefore it really didn't feel like Christmas at all. Hard to believe last year we were just beginning our month of being virtually buried under snow. What a difference a year makes, in more ways than snow.

-The following is ridiculously old news yet it's still newsworthy. The week before winter break, Leo appeared in the "mallet group" at his school's winter concert. Don't know what a mallet is in terms of music? Neither did I but it looks much like a xylophone. Anyhoo, Ellie and the babies and I went to see him perform. There was Leo, standing poised and proud, one of seven other (typical) second graders, malleting away, in perfect rhythm and time to old favorites like "Jingle Bells" and "Santa Claus is Coming to Town." I asked how it came to be that Leo was chosen to be in the "Mallet Choir." Apparently the aide that accompanies him to music class with the other second graders simply asked the teacher if Leo could do it and he said yes.

Simple as that.

Wishes, Hopes, Blessings: Bring on 2012

2011-12-31T17:32:00.000-08:00

Probably no surprise to learn these two are the biggest thing to happen to me this year.

I just tucked Leo and Ellie in and told them I'd "see them next year." Ellie asked me if it was going to be the Best Year Ever. Leo, meanwhile, was ecstatic. He finally gets to switch the month on the calendar over (well, start the new calendar but you know what I mean). He's been insistent the last week or so that it's January and not December. I can only guess that Mrs. L turned the calendar to January before the class left for winter break. In the meantime, Leo and I have actually been arguing about it. That boy is hard-headed.

But I'm a stickler for details and I absolutely do not put a calendar for the new year up before its time. As I mentioned last year, I'm not big on resolutions. I'm more a fan of sweeping quotes that make you feel good and perhaps help you (try) and live your life in a better way (gee, I don't ask for much, do I?). It's hard to top last year's choice for me. It's still one of my all-time favorites and one I turn to when I'm sad or frustrated or when I just need a little encouragement.

I'm doing things a little differently this year.

It's based on an old Irish blessing. It's wishes and hopes and yes, blessings, which I think we can all use a bit more of in these confusing, fragile, wonderful little lives we lead. Yes, it happened to appear in one of the final scenes of the finale of one of my favorite TV shows of all time (I'm sure it didn't hurt that when I first heard it I was about 100 years pregnant and severely hormonal--sobbing doesn't quite cover it).

May the wind be always at your back
And the sunshine warm upon your face
May the rains fall soft upon your field
Until the day we meet again

And the roof that hangs over your head
Find you shelter from the storm
Before the devil knows you're dead
May you be in heaven my friend

May good luck find you at your worst
And back luck lose you at your best
May your days be rich and full of wealth
And your nights be long when you need rest

And the roof that hangs over your head
Find you shelter from the storm
Before the devil knows you're dead
May you be in heaven my friend

And the road may it rise to meet your feet
And be downhill all the way to your door
May the grass below be green and the sky above be blue
May it be so forever more

And the roof that hangs over your head
Find you shelter from the storm
Before the devil knows you're dead
May you be in heaven my friend

Thanks for hanging in there with us this year. I'm excited to see what 2012 has in store for us.

And as I like to say to the kids: "Let's get this party started!"

Life-y Chaos: Morning Edition

2011-12-30T18:55:00.000-08:00

I try really hard to be grumpy in the morning and when sleep comes every night in two and three hour increments (I'm still looking at you Harry) it's not difficult.

But then I emerge, bleary eyed and stumbling, out of the bathroom and into our bedroom, and I see this.

And how can I not smile? It's a ridiculous love fest. It's true.

We're going on seven months with these little people. I keep waiting for Leo and Ellie to show signs of frustration or resentment. It hasn't happened. If anything, their loves just grows more fierce for Harry and Lucy, by the day. Leo has a few new nicknames for Lucy: Depending on his mood it's either "Dr. Lou." or "Mr. Lou." Don't ask.

The other morning, when Harry and I were still asleep, Erin set Lucy down next to a still sleeping Ellie (who had crept into our bed in the middle of the night). You know how people say exactly what they are feeling when they're still half asleep (and therefore filterless)? And since Ellie is completely filterless to begin with when she's conscious, then I think we can all believe her when she rolls over, gazes adoringly into Lucy's tiny blue eyes and says: "Mama, I just love the babies."

But really, if anyone has moments of frustration, it's me. Yesterday, after a morning of loading and unloading the dishwasher, trying to fold at least two of the laundry baskets filled with clean clothes, making a bevy of snacks and pressing "play" on the DVD player a few too many times, I kicked Leo and Ellie out into the backyard for some fresh air. Harry and Lucy were asleep at the same time (a rarity during the day, believe me). I took one look at yet another sink full of dishes and the still unfolded laundry and joined the big kids. The chores could wait.

Outside in the back yard, the light was golden and the air was unseasonably warm, as it has been for the last few months. Armed with the baby monitor resting on the patio table, I pushed Ellie on the swings and then the three of us played Frisbee (more like, continuously picked the Frisbee up off the driveway but I definitely got a workout). The sky started to turn a lovely, early winter bluish, pinkish purple as the sun started its descent. Then Ellie announced she had to go to the bathroom and quickly returned with the report that "two babies are crying." Clearly, the monitor had failed us.

It's funny, for a few brief moments, I sort of forgot about the babies. It felt like the "old days," when I could completely focus my attention on Leo and Ellie and not feel a constant nagging feeling that someone was about to cry or fuss or need something or or or. I won't lie. For a moment, I got grumpy. With the babies, a little. Why did they have to go and ruin a good, blue hour Frisbee game? Well, because they're babies. That's what they do.

And then I had what some might call a "duh" moment. Yeah, it's a little hard right now (though it's so much better than it was and it's just going to keep getting better, I believe this) but you know what? That fun I was having outside with my two "big kids?" There will come a time in that too distant future when there will be four fun kids out there playing Frisbee. Or swinging. Or bickering or whatever, but they won't always be crying and needing to nurse or be held or changed. I'm not trying to wish their babyhood away, believe me. I do my best to appreciate the fleeting baby days as I know they are just that, fleeting. But that doesn't make them any less exhausting.

Wherein the Most Relaxing Part of My Week So Far Was the Pediatrician's Office. The Second Trip In One Day. And No I'm Not Kidding

2011-12-28T18:36:00.000-08:00

You would think that I, having been Leo's mom for as long as I have, would no longer be capable of being surprised by my boy. But oh, he still shocks me, so often in good and wonderful ways. And I should be ashamed of myself for forgetting this fact.

It might sound strange and unbelievable, but the most relaxing part of today, of the week so far, was the last-minute, late afternoon trip to the pediatrician's office that Leo and I took together.

It all started last night when I sat nursing Harry at Who Knows What Hour and listened to the gravelly wheezes of Lucy in her crib as she slept. Or tried to. Harry didn't sound much better. Their little coughs and rasps have been going on at least a week now and I knew it was time to get them to the doctor. Leo, at seven and a half seems so much sturdier, so I wasn't too worried about his cough. But when the pediatrician pronounced pneumonitis in the twins this morning, I knew it was time to get Leo into the doctor.

Today was one long stream of camp drop-offs and pick-ups and trying to get the babies to sleep and eat "solid" food in between and taking them to the pediatrician. Once I realized Leo should be seen by the doctor too, I told myself that if I had to take all four kids to the doctor by myself at the end of the day (aka Witching Hour) that I might as well buy myself a one-way ticket to Crazy Town while I was at it. So I texted our babysitter. Thank the Lord she was available.

Leo was NOT happy that he didn't get to stay with our beloved babysitter but Ellie and the babies did. He was even less celebratory when we pulled into the parking lot of our pediatrician. The poor guy knew. But we rallied. He found his seat in the waiting room and read books. To himself. By himself. Who is this big kid I have, suddenly, who is too cool to be read to?

In the exam room (where we had a lot of quality time, a good hour while we waited to be seen by the doctor), we joked and chatted and Leo drew pictures. He told me about his day at camp, which included a visit to a local arcade/amusement park where he rode a "big slide" and bumper cars. I'd would have paid money to see that. As much as I think siblings are great, Leo (like most kids I'm sure) is just a different creature when he's just one on one. When I can pour all my attention on him, he's just a sweet little gentleman.

But I'm burying the lead, which is that not only did Leo allow the doctor to listen to his heart and lungs without protest, but he also stood stonily still as the doctor examined his throat and, drum roll please, HIS EARS. Longtime readers will not the enormity of this news. When our doctor suggested he'd like Leo to use an inhaler I squirmed. That didn't sound like something he'd go for. But shame on me, because when the doctor pulled out the inhaler and explained it was something that "pilots use" (it looks a little like the mask you'd use on an airplane in the event that oxygen becomes an "issue"), Leo was all for it and huffed and puffed into that little inhaler like he was born to do it.

Our next stop was the local Mom & Pop pharmacy to fill all three prescriptions (yes, three out of four of the kids are on antibiotics. Oh, the awesomeness). Leo befriended the pharmacy manager. Within a few minutes of our arrival, he had Leo sweeping and straightening shelves. Also there were some high-fives and fist bumping.

When it was time to go, the pharmacy manager walked us out to the car into the cold night. I thanked him and he told me "he had fun too" and that we made his day.

You can't really ask for more than that, can you?

Up next: Conquering the Great Haircut Terrors.

Merry & Bright

2011-12-24T19:12:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah! (I just love it when worlds collide.)

From all of us (and there are suddenly A LOT of us!), best wishes for a happy holiday season. May your days be merry and bright.

The Kindness of Strangers and Angels

2011-12-22T18:46:00.000-08:00

Gratuitous cute Harry picture having nothing to do with this post.

Three days before Christmas in the post office parking lot, the middle aged man in the yarmulke eyed me with what appeared to be shock. And maybe a touch of horror.

He stood there for a moment, and I wasn't sure what he wanted, but finally: "Can I help you?" he asked.

At first I thought he was judging me, critical of the fact that I left the ridiculous double stroller a few feet away (with the babies in it) on the curb in front of the car while I unstrapped Ellie from her car seat. But it turned out it wasn't judgement at all. It was just the usual shock and awe at the circus act that is us.

It was a welcome switch-up from the always original "Well you have your hands full!"
And as much as I appreciate the ever-popular "God bless you" (another common phrase our brood elicits), that one doesn't get packages mailed either.

"Oh, we're OK, I'm..." I paused. What the hell was I saying? This man was being kind. I had three good-sized boxes to get from the car to the post office, one well-meaning but often ineffectual four-year-old and oh, those babies. And that stroller.

"You know what? You can carry my boxes," I said.

Let me pause to say I'm a very independent person. Sometimes, to a fault. I'm the Queen of "I Got This." I don't think it's any coincidence that one of Leo's new favorite phrases is "I'm fine." I must say it a lot.

Well guess what? In the last few months I've learned a very important lesson. Take help where you can get it. Because you know what? These days? I don't always got this.

In other news, we have a roller!

Last night I left the room for a moment with Lucy on her back on her little play mat and returned to find her on her belly. I was a little disappointed that I missed her First Roll. So I left the room again. And when I returned, she'd rolled over again! And I missed it again! Now, she's what I like to refer to as a "Rolling Fool." Girl can't stay in one position for longer than a few minutes, she rolls any chance she can.

Today Ellie asked me if angels are real and if we can see them. Then she asked me if God makes the weather. Seriously I did not know this parenting gig was going to involve such profound questions, so early on. It feels like such a huge responsibility to have these little people who basically believe everything I say. (For the record I told her angels are real but you don't know who they are when you meet/see them, that they don't have wings or halos). And then I got a little teary.

Speaking of angels, I'll just never get tired of taking pictures of this.

Change of Plans

2011-12-17T16:14:00.000-08:00

Oh Leo. That boy just slays me. I go on and on about his speech and how worried I am about his intelligibility but he I have to say, he is doing great. We're suddenly having these conversations. And he's cracking jokes. And I'm having these little visions of what he's going to be like as a young adult.

This boy drives me crazy sometimes but he happens to be one of the most interesting, creative people I know. See above. Note the snowmen on the slide. He's wild about those snowmen, which I bought pre-kids--I know, I know, They're Hallmark: Don't Judge-- (and little did I know I'd someday have a little boy who loved singing Christmas toys year-round). He likes to "place" them where he's playing. Before I snapped this shot, the snowmen were on the patio table across from him. So the snowmen could see Leo? So he could see them? Who knows. Sometimes I find the snowmen sitting next to him on the couch when he's drawing, or facing him when he's playing Legos on the living room rug.

And I've decided a couple of things about Leo. Sure he takes a little longer to do certain things. To wit: This morning I sent him to the pantry to get more paper towels and he he took so long I'm pretty sure I could have gone to the store and bought more paper towels. No, he's not your "typical" seven and a half year old. But he is smart. Wise. Incredibly sensitive. The only thing "wrong" with him? He is the most stubborn person I have ever met. Once he makes a decision about something, look out. It's a long, sometimes painful (maddening, infuriating) road to convince him otherwise (it could be anything from wanting cheese crackers when there are none to refusing to get on the school bus in the morning).

Interestingly enough, the recent school evaluation (conducted every three years to determine proper placement/eligibility) we've been waiting for had a similar finding (except for the maddening, infuriatingly stubborn part). Leo's reading close to grade level. His receptive language is that of an eleven-year-old. And we're in an interesting little predicament now because for the past two and a half years, Leo has spent the bulk of his day in a self-contained classroom for "mildly cognitively delayed."

And now? Seems he's not technically cognitively delayed. Perhaps learning disabled or language delayed (I'd argue he has articulation issues vs. delays but whatever). The point is, Leo's "team" (teacher, therapists, school psychologist) are faced with something they say they've never really seen before. And they are working to create a new program for Leo. It's looking like it will probably be a combo of a typical classroom, some time in his present ("cognitive delayed") class and some time in the "language and learning delays" room.

And for the first time in the history of meetings with Leo's team, when I uttered the words "full inclusion," I was met with smiles and nods, rather than shrugs and "we'll have to see how it goes."

Things are about to get even more interesting.

Holiday Kickoff, an Absence of Melancholy and a Dose of Normalcy

2011-12-16T18:06:00.000-08:00

Today was a big day. Ellie had her school holiday concert and party and then it was off to Leo's annual holiday ("Dress to Impress") luncheon.

I emailed this photo to my dad early this morning and his reaction was: "You grabbed your daughter's soul for all the world to see." It's true. This is Ellie.

The best thing about today? I felt somewhat normal. I hope the babies don't take offense to the fact that my feeling "normal" seems to coincide with having a baby sitter for much of the day (they did not accompany me to Leo's luncheon nor my afternoon of blissful, baby/kid-free shopping).

Sure, I had the babies with me for Ellie's concert but that was fine because a preschool concert is not exactly a pristine and silent environment (i.e. it was not a big deal when Harry fussed). I happened to sit behind another set of twins (ten weeks, OY. Cute and tiny but MAN am I glad those early days are behind us) and I felt positively veteran-like. But this was the first kid concert I've attended where I haven't gotten teary. I used to be such a sap. Am I too tired to get emotional over the passing of time? Have the babies and their tireless demands steeled me against melancholy (this might not be a terrible thing)? I do feel, much of the time, that I'm simply on auto-pilot, there is just so.much.to.do.no.time.to.think. Am I just too busy to get choked up? I don't know. But I noticed it.

To say that Ellie was excited about her concert would be putting it mildly. She's been singing "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" and "Eight Little Candles" for two weeks straight. Every morning she asks if today is her concert and when I told her last night before bed that tomorrow was her concert? Well. She pretty much exploded.

And there she was this morning, bounding down the stairs, Christmas plaid taffeta and velvet dress (with matching leggings thanks Grandma Jerry) in hand. She dressed herself quietly and seriously and proceeded to prance around the room singing to herself ("Practicing," she explained, since "Today is my concert day and it's also my lucky day. Did you know your concert day is your lucky day?")

I did not.

Later Ellie asked me if she had another concert tomorrow. When I told her no, her face fell.

Shouldn't every day include a stage? Ellie seems to think so.

Leo's luncheon was delightful, just as it was last year (I enjoyed it much more this year since I wasn't overcome with morning sickness induced nausea and smell aversions--last year it was all I could do to feign interest in my stuffed shells and not run screaming from the "scents" of the elementary school cafeteria). I didn't get any good pictures this year but that's ok, since Leo wasn't feeling very well (bad cold). It was nice to just sit with him and be there for Just Him, something I really never get to do these days.

"Life-y Chaos"

2011-12-14T17:08:00.000-08:00

Life-y Chaos. That's what my dad coined our house following a recent stay with the six of us. He has a point. It's definitely life-y here and oh yes, the chaos. I'd like to think that it's slightly organized, but chaos? l'll give him that.

Six Months Later and Lucy is Still Trying to Eat Harry

2011-12-13T06:38:00.000-08:00

Some things never change.

Harry and Lucy, two weeks old. (photo by Stephanie Willson)

Lucy and Harry, waiting for the doctor at their six month check-up yesterday. Note Lucy, moving in for the lick.

At yesterday's check-up they weighed in at 15.9 and 16.9 (Harry's the bruiser) so they've both more than doubled their birth weights. They're both 24 inches long, have the same head measurement (though I can't recall it) and interestingly enough, had the same temperature (97.6). Twins indeed. They're still wee but growing beautifully.

They've started "real" food. Sweet potatoes and peas.

Met with more enthusiasm by Lucy than Harry (not that you can tell by these pictures).

Lucy tried out a "real" swing at the playground.

(not pictured, Ellie, positively overcome with glee and wondering "When will Lucy get to play with me on the playground?")

They've gone for a spin in their new "big kid" stroller.

I'd say it was a hit.

They're still more likely to be seen in the giant ridiculous stroller. And as you can see here, they are positively miserable little babies with absolutely nothing to be happy about.

Yeah right.

This Post Brought To You By Grandparents

2011-12-11T08:57:00.000-08:00

(minus one grandchild, Leo was at school.)

Still alive. Still here. Busy. What else is new?

I did not mean to take such a hiatus here.

Grandparents visited from Oregon. Wonderful to have so many arms to hold so many babies. And children. A 4:4 ratio is positively humane and reasonable don't you think?

In other news, I asked Leo what he wants for Christmas/Hanukkah and he answered "Lucy and Harry." So at least my shopping for him will prove to be pretty easy.

Promise to update with more soon.

Scenes From Thankfulness

2011-11-25T17:03:00.000-08:00

We went to the City for breakfast, in our Thanksgiving finery (see Ellie) and brought our own centerpiece of course (see Leo).

I'd like to say we hit the Parade, but I'm not quite that brave, yet (though it's on my To Do list when the kids get a little older, but not too old that they don't want to be seen with us). Speaking of the parade, we recorded it this year and watched it when we got home. This is the way to watch the parade, fast-forwarding through all the commercials and annoying celebrity interviews. This was the first year the kids were actually into the parade (and not just the Sponge Bob and Kermit balloons). Ellie was very interested in all the "girl dancers," particularly the act from "Priscilla Queen of the Desert." Yes, that was an interesting little conversation.

Spotted on Spring Street: Pilgrim boy.

It wouldn't be Thanksgiving with a baby(ies) without a good turkey bib: "Mommy's Little Turkey"--I'll say.

Best way to emerge from a turkey coma: story time.

The kids went to bed early and then I ate a lot of pie, which is the way every day should end, I think.

Thankful. Grateful.

2011-11-23T15:45:00.000-08:00

What Leo is thankful for, November 2011.

My cup these days, runneth over. WAY over.

I'm aggravated and exhausted and impatient and spread thin as a fine crepe. But amidst the laundry that never ends, the dishwasher that's always full and the claustrophobic house (two of everything baby-related, do you realize how much stuff that is?) oh, do I know how good things are. This is where I need to be right now. There is no other place.

Even when I'm so sleepy I can hardly see (did you know this is possible? I'm learning that it is), I'm truly grateful. I am.

I'm thankful that the number of times per day that I think to myself I Cannot Do This, This is Too Hard, seems to be decreasing.

Grateful for Erin, who has an uncanny ability to sense just when I'm about ready to walk out that front door and not tell anyone where I'm going--this is when she wisely somehow finds a way to make the early train. Sometimes she even brings me pastries. She works incredibly hard and so far, professes to love me no matter what kind of mood I'm in (and believe me, there have been some moods lately).

Grateful for a little boy who tells me "I love you Mommy." Thankful for that little boy who, when he falls down, shoots his thumb up in the air and exclaims, "I'm OK!"

Grateful for a little girl who asks "Am I doing a good job Mommy?" and perhaps my personal favorite, "Can I just have a snuggle?"

Collectively, they often make me want to beat my head against the wall, but they also make me laugh every day (thank goodness!). To wit: yesterday Ellie, wearing her most earnest expression asked me if I knew that "milk comes from cows bottoms?" (I did not.)

And although a year ago the prospect both terrified and bewildered me, today I'm grateful for our "bonus baby," that we went for #3 and got #4 too. Just don't ask me which one the bonus is, because I can't imagine life without either one.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

All I Want Are Some Turkey Dishtowels and a Few Other Thoughts

2011-11-18T16:17:00.000-08:00

I set off to Target earlier this week on a mission. Turkey dish towels. Like these, only preferably not for $13. No such luck. It's all Christmas baby. There were no turkeys to be found. Apparently no one decorates for Thanksgiving anymore.

I guess I'm as guilty as the next guy (see above). We went to the mall today for the playground and the bookstore, passed Santa, who Ellie begged to see (what?). Nineteen dollars and ninety five cents and fifty percent of my children later (Leo was at school, Lucy was asleep), there we were.

To be honest, I love this time of year. I'm a Jew who loves Christmas. I love Christmas music (confession: I listened to it today on Pandora and love that thanks to Pandora I don't have to wait for the radio stations to play it). It's weird not being in the city and feel myself missing the hustle and bustle a little, or at the very least being able to complain about all those dang tourists crowding around the tree at Rockefeller Center.

In other news:

-Speaking of turkeys, I finally finally hung my little "art garland" (to hold seasonal kid art) that I've been meaning to put up for, oh, five months (hi babies!). It's nothing big, it's just twine and cutie mini clothes pins and with a couple of nails it took all of three minutes to hang. It will be a welcome spot for all the art we do around here or the stuff that comes home from school that I feel guilty instantly recycling (we are clutter central, suddenly). I really can't go on enough about how accomplished I felt having crossed that To Do off my list. It's astonishing how challenging it is to finish a goal or project around here lately and that's been hard for me not to get itchy about. I assure you I'm getting better though ("lightening up," as my mom would say.)

-Leo finally started private speech therapy. Let me just say that 5 p.m. is not an optimal time to be loading up four children and setting off in the night for said appointment. The babies want to be asleep at 5:30, or at least on their way, not sitting in an Italian restaurant waiting for take-out food for their older brother and sister. That's what Ellie and I did while Leo was at his appointment when I determined there would be no time for dinner prep when we walked in the door at 6 p.m. and the babies were cuh-razy and exhausted. This extra speech for Leo is such a worthy cause, but I'm pretty sure if they can't find a better time for his appointment (earlier, please), it's going to shave a couple of years off my life.

-This maternity leave has been sadly TV-less (what a surprise, right? It's not like I have anything to do). In an effort to amp up my television viewing, I'm trying to get "into" a show. That show is American Horror Story. Wow. Anyone else watching? What do you think? I can't look away. It's so bad it's good.

-These babies are getting chunky and sturdy and holdable by the big kids.

And I'm pretty sure these two are in love.

Turning the Corner on Five Months

2011-11-11T18:29:00.000-08:00

The babies are five months old. Well, make that five months and ten days. As usual, I'm late with the milestone report.

Of course they were both smiling adorably here until I broke out the camera and then this turned into a mugshot. But still, look at them! Giant babies! Who play with toys in exersaucers! (Since I took this picture, Lucy officially "outgrew" her swing (psychologically that is, not physically--she just hates it). Harry, on the other hand, still loves him some swing, and I love him in it!)

Five months just seems so old. I mean, relatively speaking. They are thankfully out of the newborn neediness (mostly) and well on their way to being little people with strong personalities and preferences. They are both entertaining and adore being entertained. The nice thing about having "older" kids with babies is I can put the big kids to work. Lucy's fussing and I'm making breakfast? "Ellie! Go talk to Lucy!" That's a common refrain in this house, and I've bought myself a good ten minutes.

Harry is our serious guy but he's lightened up considerably. To be fair, some days he's downright jovial. He has a gaze you can't look away from. An old soul, that's for sure. He doesn't laugh or smile easily, but when he does, he throws his whole body into it and gives you the biggest, goofiest grin.

When you hold him, he throws one arm over your shoulder and looks around at the world with such curiosity and concentration. He is able to soothe himself more and more. He seems to love the exersaucer and all the little toys on it. He's pushing buttons and spinning toys already.

Nighttime sleep is still our struggle with Harry. He wakes about every two and a half to three hours with a gut wrenching scream as though he's being stabbed. His cries are simply guttural. When Harry cries and Lucy is next to him, I swear she gives him this look as if to say "What is your problem? Sometimes she even sticks a tiny, delicate finger in her ear. Big brother is loud.

Crying it Out is definitely in our near future (shudder) with Harry. Otherwise, I might start doing some middle-of-night guttural screaming. I'm just not quite ready. Since they were technically a month early, they're not really five months. Can you tell I'm a bit of a softy?

Lucy is still our little peanut. Our happy peanut. Well, she's not as small as she was, but she still just seems so much more delicate than Harry. And the happy: Seriously, I didn't know it was possible for a baby to be this happy. She just exudes cheer and delight. At Costco or Target or Shoprite, she draws crowds with her smile. No one can really believe it. This baby wakes up laughing. Outright giggling, kicking her little legs and shaking her little arms. (You'll just have to take my word on this as the pictures here don't capture that happy so well.)

Whenever I feel crabby and exhausted and spread so thin I can hardly see, when I feel overcome with guilt that I can't give Leo and Ellie everything they need, I should just look at these pictures. Leo and Ellie love their babies.

I still contend that the hardest thing about twins is that you can't always soothe them both at the same time. Which means sometimes, someone is...not happy. Ellie was definitely the fussier baby (than Leo) and with her it was simple: I held her all the time. I made dinner with one hand almost every night during that good old "Witching Hour" while I cradled her in my other arm. Not exactly possible with twins. I absolutely despise the hours between about 4:45 and 7 p.m. Leo and Ellie are home and hungry and demanding snacks and dinner and baths and "I don't want to watch Super Why" (what is with dinner every.single.night? Such demands!) Meanwhile the babies are fussy and exhausted. They don't nap well in the afternoon and I swear if they had their way they'd be in bed by 6 p.m. but that's not always possible.

Case in point: Lucy had a terrible day today sleep-wise. Seriously the girl must have slept a total of thirty minutes today (she had an ear infection last week and we went back for a check today and she still has fluid, I just don't think she feels good). By 4:30 today she was just done (weren't we all?). While Harry took his nightly pre-dinner siesta, I strolled the halls of our house, cradling exhausted Lucy. Her body became heavier and heavier on my shoulder until I realized she had finally, mercifully, fallen asleep. And really, is there anything better in the world than the feeling of a baby falling asleep on you? It truly does make it all worthwhile.

She's five months old and I can count on one hand how many times she's fallen asleep on my shoulder (I'm not counting falling asleep while nursing, that's cheating). It felt so nice to be able to really comfort her. I've said it before and I'll say it again, with two, so much of the time it's just full on damage control. Keep them not crying, full, dry. Those individual moments of connection are sadly, few and far between.

I've heard it said the first year with twins is the hardest. We're not even six months into the adventure but I'll take the leap and say the first six months is the most difficult part of that year. And would you look at that? We're coming around the bend.

A Bunch of Turkeys

2011-11-09T18:32:00.000-08:00

Poor Lucy.

Such a shame her big sister isn't head over heels crazy for her.

Kidding, of course. That Lucy has Ellie wrapped around her finger already, this much is clear.

And since Lucy doesn't believe in naps, she was front and center for Ellie's little turkey project yesterday.

I have a hard time keeping Ellie occupied some days. A lot of days, really. She's been in daycare full-time since she was six months old. This time at home has been an adjustment for everyone. "I just want to go where you go," she says to me when I go downstairs to switch clothes from the washer to the dryer or...try to go to the bathroom. Alone.

This little turkey project came to me in a panic when I could not say no to TV again nor could I fetch another snack. "How about a Thanksgiving project!" I suggested, in my most energetic voice. "Yes!" Ellie agreed wholeheartedly.

I'd say it was a hit for all involved.

Ellie was so excited to show Leo her "project" when he got home from school. He immediately wanted to make his own turkeys.

He busted out with these, tracing his own hand all by himself, without even being told how to do it.

He's clearly a veteran of Thanksgiving crafts, having been successfully indoctrinated on the delicate ins and outs of turkey hand tracing.

Good Sports

2011-11-07T18:06:00.000-08:00

Ellie, impatient with my tardiness (see tiny tip of Giant Twin Baby Stoller in bottom frame of photo that gets blame for said tardiness) on the way to Leo's school Halloween Parade (there were no photos of Trick or Treating this year).

As I reported, due to last week's hugely inconvenient and destructive storm, Trick-or-Treating was moved to last night. A week late. Can you imagine, as a kid, the enormity of this?

Thankfully, Leo and Ellie are still a little too young to get too up in arms about this. Leo's never really been a candy guy (though he did discover candy corn this year and asked for seconds which for him and candy is huge). Ellie on the other hand though, is a Candy Fiend.

Can I just pause to say that I wish, for the sake of all working parents (especially those that commute to and from ridiculously large cities to the suburbs--not naming names here--) that we could all just collective agree to make Halloween, say, the last Saturday in October? It would just make life so much easier. This year Erin had to work late and there was just no way I could take all four Trick or Treating by myself.

Which brings me to last night. There we were, with me upstairs, trying to get the babies to sleep (since daylight savings time they now want to go down at 5:30 instead of 6:30), Leo and Ellie are in the mudroom shrieking because "Someone's at the door! Someone's trying to get in!" (Um, yikes?) "They want to give us candy!" (Ellie is giving the play-by-play here, clearly because she's not quite down with the concept of Trick or Treating is when We give Them candy). Of course I responsibly turned the porch light off before I went upstairs (the universal sign for We Are Not Participating in the Trick or Treating.) And...of course people still knocked.

The hours between 5:30 and 7:30 are a circus at our house on a good night with the whole benign neglect (I hope) of the kids big eating dinner downstairs while I try furiously to get the babies down so I can catch the tail end of dinner and do baths and books with the older ones with my whole heart.

I finally got the babies to sleep and came downstairs to see what the racket was about in the mud room. Ellie kept asking if we could go trick or treating. I reminded her that the babies were asleep and she suggested we put them in the stroller. Not going to happen. Feeling terribly guilty about the fact that not only was our Halloween party an absolute and complete bust but the kids also missed out on trick or treating, I decided that it would be just fine for us to at least hand out candy.

Well. Bless their little hearts, you would have thought it was Christmas, Hanukkah and Halloween. Such. Excitement. The front door burst open and Leo and Ellie took their positions on the front porch, giant bowl of M&M's and Skittles in hand.

"I think I see someone! They have a flashlight!" Ellie exclaimed, jumping up and down. Nope. Car headlights.

"Trick or Treaters!" said Leo. Again, no. Just a middle aged couple taking an evening stroll.

And then. We had maybe six "customers."

I'm not sure if it was the fact that it was a little on the late side (but not really) of 7:30 or that it was, oh I don't know, a week After Halloween. But it was a slow, slow night. We did get a sweet dad dressed as a self-proclaimed "crazy dentist" (wearing the white pants, coat and rainbow afro and yes, I asked, and he really is a dentist). There was also, I kid you not, a 50-something (at least) woman trick or treating with her teenage son. Odd.

But still. Leo and Ellie could not contain their glee. And the lucky six that did grace our porch? They cleaned up, with handfuls of those Skittles and M&Ms.

And I hereby proclaim, officially, Halloween is finally over.

Yup, It's Still Halloween Here

2011-11-04T18:38:00.000-07:00

It must be every kid's dream: The Halloween that won't end.

Our little storm closed schools for three days, postponing the annual Halloween parade at Leo's school until today. Trick or Treating was moved from October 31 to this coming Monday (by order of the town mayor, due to the multitude of downed trees and power lines. Yikes.)

En route to the parade.

Ellie was immediately invited to join in, much to her glee (and Leo's).

Of course the babies came too, making their debut at Leo's school. Leo was beyond proud. You may recall he's the one who broke the news about the babies to much of the free world.

I think it's safe to say that the feet of these babies didn't touch the ground at yesterday's Halloween party. When I got home? I found lipstick on Harry's cap. There were many, many kisses for "Leo's babies."

An Epic Tale of the Nightmare Before, During and After Halloween or Why I Stopped Blogging for "31 or 21"*

2011-11-02T17:29:00.000-07:00

So I'm here to tell you I have one HECK of an excuse for the disintegration of my end of "31 for 21."

I wish it weren't so.

Let's take stock, shall we? In the last eighty-six hours I have:

-Gone to Costco for party supplies for our little Halloween shindig and filled an entire refrigerator.

-Because (forshadowing here) nothing says "Power Outage!" like a full refrigerator, right?
I took this photo for the insurance company. I don't normally document my refrigerator, by the way.
But look at the giant, gorgeous hunk of brie. For my beloved cheese plate. It breaks my heart.

-Baked forty-eight pumpkin cupcakes and lovingly frosted them with cream cheese frosting.

-Watched, through the living room window, snow fall hard and quickly on trees full of golden, orange and brown leaves. Something is wrong with this picture.

-Heard the snap, like gun shots of trees falling all around us (PLEASE DON'T HIT THE HOUSE PLEASE DON'T HIT THE HOUSE).

My poor neighbor's tree.

-Answered call after call from guests who "couldn't get out of their driveways" or who were "afraid to go out in the storm."

-Watched little Ellie's shoulders slump and her lip quiver with the question "Why isn't anyone coming to my party?" [Insert stab to my heart here.] Ellie has been talking about and planning this party for weeks and weeks, every day it's "Hey guys I have an idea for the party!

-Cringed as the lights flickered, once, twice, went off, came back on and finally, off.

-Remembered, once again, how there are few things in life more cringe inducing than the ominous thud of your house's power going off. As if I needed reminding.

-Felt uneasy as darkness falls. It's going to be a long, cold night. Put socks, hats, two sleepers and extra blankets on the babies in their swings (it's too cold to put them upstairs). Check their cold hands every three hours as the temperature in our house slowly drops to 48 degrees.

-Made the decision with Erin that we could not spend another night in the house without heat and began the stressful process of trying to find a hotel room in the most densely populated state in the country boasting half a million people without power.

-Found a hotel room! Thirty miles away. Sigh.

Of course the kids thought it was a party. Our hotel had a pool! And room service! They got to eat pizza and watch Spongebob in bed. Halloween Party? What Halloween Party?

Someone in housekeeping had a lot of fun cleaning our room.

-Spent first night in hotel room. SO MUCH FUN WITH BABIES, by the way.

-Returned to house in the morning to throw away roughly $1000 dollars worth of rotting food (and don't forget the deep freeze which really comes in handy when, you know, buying in bulk.

-Driven back to hotel room for more "Spongebob."

We basically skipped Halloween. We were told by the hotel management (when they saw the kids) that there was a neighborhood a few blocks from the hotel where they could Trick or Treat but that just felt, I don't know. Weird. Then I got an email from our town that Halloween had been postponed for next week. So I didn't feel too bad. Did I mention Leo's school was closed Monday through Wednesday and is finally just reopening tomorrow?

-Woke up Tuesday morning to the news that our hotel would not be able to extend our reservation past the initial two days despite the fact that they assured us, upon check-in, that we could stay as long as we needed (No, I'm not bitter about this at all, why do you ask?)

-Paused to realize the babies were five months old! By second night, babies seemed to enjoy hotel bed.

-Made hotel manager find us a new, comparable hotel room.

-Drove the kids thirty miles to Ellie's school (where Leo used to also attend after-care and where they graciously let him go too on Tuesday so I could move our belongings without the "help" of four kids), first stopping at Dunkin Donuts to get lunches for the kids (I can't even believe I just typed that). Felt like circus sideshow as I hauled all four children into Dunkin Donuts to buy bagels with cream cheese (aka lunch).

-Felt concern that Lucy doesn't seem well. She has a low grade fever, which I learn when I stop at the house to check her temperature. Did I mention the interior of the house was 45 degrees? Harry doesn't seem great either. He's got that hacking cough that won't go away. Called doctor to make sick visit appointment.

-Needed to return to hotel to move our things to "new" hotel but first take babies to the doctor. Ta-da! Twin ear infections. Because there just wasn't enough going on.

-Rushed back to hotel room to pack room while Harry provided soundtrack. Nothing says fun like throwing your family's belongings into shopping bags as fast as you can while a sick baby screams in the background.

-Arrived at new hotel. Use term "hotel" loosely. Feel disgusted by the fact that while we may have been assigned a "non-smoking room," just walking through the hallway gives me a sore throat. Decide we cannot stay there. Put things back in the car and drive nervously back toward home, willing, praying, hoping that somehow, the power came back.

-En route to pharmacy to drop off babies' antibiotic, call neighbor, to check if, on the off chance the power has been restored.

-Learn the power was restored sometime around 4 p.m., right about when I was hauling bags into (and quickly out of) the Bed Bug Inn.

If I have learned one thing this year, it is to not take electricity for granted. Oh and heat is also nice. I realize, it could have been much, much worse. It was roughly four days without power. But there is just something very disconcerting about being displaced from your house and daily routine.

And after this year?

All I want for Chrismakah is a generator.

*With thanks to the illustrious Newark Star Ledger for the "Nightmare Before Halloween"

Sorry, Officer

2011-10-27T18:21:00.000-07:00

The great thing about all the safety education they do in elementary school now is that seven-year-olds know how to call 911.

The bad thing about all the safety education they do in elementary school now is that seven-year-olds know how to call 911.

You probably know how this one is going to go.

Saturday morning Erin woke to a ringing phone. Seems that Leo woke up early (as per usual), crept downstairs, and made a certain phone call. The call that Erin received was from a 911 dispatcher. Apparently someone from our number had called them?

Gee, I wonder who.

Minutes later there was a knock at the door.

Let me pause to say:

A) I feel incredibly safe in my town.
B) The high property taxes we pay apparently go to...something.

Erin went downstairs and opened the front door to find a police officer standing on our front porch. Seems that sending one out to the residence where a 911 call originates is standard. (Like I said, I feel safe.)

Erin called Leo to the door. Leo immediately burst into tears. He knew exactly what he'd done and that it was not the right thing.

It was sort of every parent's dream, really. Your kid does something wrong and a police officer shows up and tells them not to do it again.

We'll see if this one sticks.

Fail Again: Make-up

2011-10-26T18:28:00.001-07:00

Another fail.

I SO feel that I'm not doing my part in "31 for 21" this year to increase/promote Down syndrome awareness. Sigh.

This year has been hard. The only time I have to blog is at the end of the day when everyone is in bed and I have to say that by then? I am just done. DONE.

The babies have colds again. I think the culprits are the big kids as I don't remember any of my other infants being this sick, this often, this young. I shouldn't be surprised as Leo goes straight from the bus to kissing and hugging his babies. Last night the babies tag-teamed and I feel like I was awake about every forty-five minutes. It was ugly.

Let's change the subject. What about this?

A seven year old boy who is WAY more typical than not. Lives to annoy his little sister while at the same time adoring her. Loves to play in the back yard, preferably in the dirt. Loves Legos, all things related to "Toy Story" and Super Heroes. Has also been known to rock a princess dress too (quite proudly).

He has a couple of new, hilarious moves. If he loves something (i.e. a particularly fabulous piece of cheese pizza) he falls on the ground, throws his thumb up in the air (in a "thumbs up" position) and says: "I'm OK!" (Translation: he fainted from the fabulousness.)

He's also cracking jokes. Or, his version of a joke. He asks for orange juice at dinner even though he knows full well we only have orange juice at breakfast. "Mommy! Pretend!" he says in his most exasperated tone, when I remind him of the no orange juice rule.

This boy surprises me almost every day, much as he has from the very beginning.

Two in a Cart: 2008

2011-10-24T19:08:00.000-07:00

I don't have very much to say today except that I felt spectacularly unproductive. I know the whole "you kept four humans alive" is not insignificant, but sometimes I just get frustrated with my inability to concentrate and complete a task. Eh, no biggy. That's just the way it is right now.

Anyway. Since I don't have much of interest to say, how about an oldie but goodie?

Leo, 3 1/2 and Ellie, ten months.

This feels like it was both yesterday and a dozen years ago.

Time is a funny thing.

Four For a Day

2011-10-23T16:59:00.000-07:00

Today, for the first time since the babies were born, we went out as a family of four.

It felt totally and completely normal. Barely five blocks from the house, it was almost like the babies were a dream.

We went to see a play, "Angelina Ballerina". Leo and Ellie loved it (they're experienced theatergoers).

When the play ended we purchased the requisite souvenirs ("Angelina" ears and wand) that cost more than the tickets (because you only live once).

Then it was off to a party. Again, just the four of us.

Later, Erin would describe me as "sitting alone at a table eating and drinking (wine)." It's totally true and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I enjoyed myself.

Ellie played four square with a couple of new found friends. Leo stayed with Erin and me and ate his weight in hot dogs and grapes and chatted up the ladies. He was having actual conversations and it was wonderful to watch.

There was just a lightness about the day, even when we couldn't find parking before the play and drove around in circles with the clock on the dashboard ticking down (there are few things in life I hate more than being late).

I don't think I realize how much work the babies are until I'm away from them (which is basically never). And I forget sometimes how easy "big" kids (like Leo and Ellie) are. But someday (too soon, I know) these babies will be big kids too. And the not so light days will feel like far away dreams. And there will be four little people instead of two, sitting in a darkened theater whispering "Is it over?"

Lucy modeling the Angelina ears.

Dusk arrived and an exquisite fall day came to an end and it was time to return home to the babysitter and the babies. When we walked in the door, the babysitter was holding Lucy and Harry was jiggling away in his bouncy chair. Both babies turned to look at us and smiled as if to say "It's you guys! We know you!" Leo and Ellie showered the babies with hugs and kisses and squeezes as they are apt to do when apart from them for more than three minutes. Ellie tried the ears and wand on her little sister and squeeled "She's holding the wand!" (see above and below).

Our babysitter described the babies as "so much fun." She said it twice so it must have been true.

Mouse ears AND wand.

Four for a day was fun. But six is more like it.

Holidays: The Good and the Bad

2011-10-22T17:18:00.001-07:00

Ellie is in absolute love with Halloween. Every car ride or walk is a search for decorations. "Mommy did you see those ghostas?" She calls to me from the back of the mini-van. Not sure where that pronounciation came from but that's it. The other day as we were pulling out of the mall parking lot I pointed out the "haunted house" to her (one of those pop-up places that go up every year that caters to teenagers and people who actually like to be scared). She was fascinated and pummeled me with questions about it all the way home. Was it real? What's in a haunted house? Why is a house haunted? Is our house haunted?

So. Many. Questions.

It's a total cliche but the whole holidays through the eyes of a child thing? It is pretty great.

Sidenote: I went to Target on Friday in search of an orange or "fallesque" kitchen rug. Couldn't find any because all the kitchen linens/rugs were CHRISTMASY.

Are you kidding me?

Speller

2011-10-21T18:59:00.000-07:00

An addendum to my last post about Leo in second grade:

I forgot to mention that he consistently scores one-hundred percent on his spelling tests (he has one every Friday). I hope I'm not jinxing anything by kvelling about it here but I just have to mention it. And I love it because I was a total spelling fiend in elementary school. Yes I was the kid who actually looked forward to spelling tests. So I love that Leo seems to be following in my spelling footsteps. (My expertise peaked in elementary school, I assure you.)

And full disclosure: we don't always study. Shhhh.

When No News is Good News

2011-10-20T19:17:00.000-07:00

Wednesday was Leo's parent-teacher conference. Gone are the days when I used to blissfully shuttle one kid (Ellie) to daycare and the other (Leo) to school (a few minutes early) so I could chat quickly (though meaningfully!) with Leo's teacher, all the while in the back of my mind hoping against hope that I would still make the last express bus to New York so I could not be too late to work.

This parent conference day was a little different. Sure I could have taken the babies, but I really wanted to have a full block of time to focus just on Leo. It's bad enough that I missed back to school night this year (first time missing it in history of parenting and I am still wracked with guilt about it).

My life is such that these days? A drive to an elementary school in the rain, where I can listen to what I want on the car iPod (Delta Spirit's "Devil Knows You're Dead") is a downright vacation. Seriously, it was so relaxing. One of the highlights of my week. And when I got to stop on the way home for lunch? I was ridiculously giddy. I got in an out of a car without having to load and unload the giant twin stroller. Party!

But I digress.

I was a little nervous about the conference. I mean, not nervous, just a little concerned that I hadn't been heard much from Leo's teacher so far this year. In year's past she's been chattier (emails), there's been more writing in Leo's communication book. This year? I got a note asking for a painting smock and for more money in Leo's lunch account. I had this whole scenario cooked up in my head that I'd get reports of Leo struggling "with all that's going on at home."
I've been facing with some pretty obstinate behavior (not exactly new). What's new is that I'm usually trying to enforce some kind of rule while holding an infant and a certain someone therefore seems to have a hard time taking me very seriously. I was curious if any of that behavior had bled over into school.

Apparently not. According to Mrs. L., Leo is doing great. He's well mannered, polite, does what he's asked to do. He's almost finished with the Edmark Reading Program Level 1, is taking Spanish and, well, she honestly had only good things to say about him. The only concern is the speech which is not a surprise of course and we're being proactive about that (the private therapy is taking longer than I'd like to get started but that's another story).

I for one am seeing some great things in Leo lately. He's definitely maturing. Just today, while Ellie was at swim class, a group of preschoolers (cute little girls, Leo's favorite target) passed us, like ducks in a row. Rather than lunging in for the hug, Leo held his hand out and said "High Five." One little girl looked concerned but gave in, and fived him. And the fact that I was able to take Leo to Ellie's swim class and he sat with me and stayed with me and the babies, all the while having a long and quite involved conversation with some of the employees of the community center where all those Ellie classes take place? Also huge. I'm very proud of him.

So all in all, second grade is off to a good start. Pfew.

What Happens When Your Mom Lets Your Big Sister Play With Her Halloween Costume

2011-10-19T17:48:00.000-07:00

I'm telling you, nothing in our house is sacred. Nothing!

Oh, Right. That.

2011-10-18T13:16:00.000-07:00

Leo pushes the boundaries, even in his sleep.

You may have noticed a rather glaring absence in my posts lately.

Down syndrome.

Right. I haven't said much about it, have I? In honor of "31 for 21" I am...apparently NOT talking about the good old 21.

Obviously, the arrival of two babies has overshadowed a lot lately. I mean, let's face it. Cute baby picture posts are way easier than longish, heartfelt essays about what a major birth defect has meant to our family.

But I think there's more to the fact that this year I haven't been writing about Down syndrome.

It's that I'm not sure what to say anymore.

I'm obviously over the shock. I'm not grieving Down syndrome anymore. I love my boy and he is who is he is. I don't know him any other way than having Down syndrome. His little quirks? Hates haircuts, loves to love, fancies scrambled eggs and grapes, Ellie, Lucy and Harry above all else: Who knows if they are because of Down syndrome or just because. Everything happens for a reason and at the same time? I also think that, as my dad says, nothing happens for any reason at all.

Here's a little Down syndrome story from today. Ellie and I went to the mall to get some needed items for Leo's Halloween costume. We had a few extra minutes before we had to go home to meet Leo's bus, so we stopped to play at the indoor playground. There was a toddler there, big for his age to not be walking and my "special needs" radar was up. Something was just not quite "right" with this little boy. I examined his profile and noticed he had the telltale flat head (one of the traits of Down syndrome).

And then it dawned on me that it was hard for me to tell if he had Down syndrome because to me, Down syndrome is "normal." I see it every day in Leo, and so I sort of feel like I don't see it at all, if that makes sense.

A Room Of Their Own

2011-10-16T18:25:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned a few posts ago, at long last, Harry and Lucy are out of our room (um, I mean, the babies have an official nursery).

View from the doorway:

Lucy is still wee enough to sleep in the Pack N Play, so that's her spot. Meanwhile Harry is bunking in Ellie's old crib. We're dragging our heels on buying a second crib until we absolutely have to. Which will be soon. Yes, yes, I still need to do something about those little windows and the naked curtain rods (the rods have been there since we moved in). Gah.

This was Ellie's old room, which was pink when we moved into the house. Pepto-Bismol pink (not exaggerating). We promptly took care of that in a painting spree and converted it to this soothing, gender neutral green. Little did we know I would give birth to the Queen of Pink. When she turned about three and became pink-obsessed I sort of wished we'd kept it pink, but that was before we added two more people to the family and long before I could have ever imagined Leo and Ellie would share a room. Of course now, I'm so glad we painted it green before Ellie was born because it's such a nice, neutral, suitable-for-boys-or-girls-or-hey-how-handy-both!-color.

I'm in absolute love with that tree wall decal. When I first put it up I used to go into the room and just look at it. It just makes me feel good. Calm. I hope the babies think so too. That rocker belonged to Erin's mom (she rocked Erin in it) which I think is very sweet. Also, it's very comfortable and roomy. Harry must agree as we spend a lot of quality time in it together, at 1 a.m., and 3 a.m. and 4:45 a.m.

I'm not big on "themes" but I guess I'm sort of going with "trees" and "nature and birds" here. I picked this green rug because I think it looks sort of "grass-like." It's very soft and thick and cozy and you can say what you want about Ikea but they do certain things very well. I thought this rug had it all, very reasonably priced and great (so far) quality. Wow I suddenly sound like an annoying carpet salesperson. Sorry.

And I pretty much freaked out (in a good way) when I found these curtains which aren't "matchy matchy" (which I hate) but compliment the whole tree/bird thing just perfectly. And yes, they need to be hemmed.

There still isn't much on the walls, but there isn't a ton of wall space so I doubt I'll hang much more than what's up. This photo was taken by my friend Stephanie Willson, who did our amazing newborn photo shoot (coming all the way from Florida to New Jersey to do it). Yes those are tiny Lucy and Harry heads.

Ye trusty sound machine (highly recommended). That frame on the left are 3-D ultrasound images of the babies four days before they were born. The one of Lucy (on the bottom) looks exactly like her (which shouldn't be surprising since, you know, it is her). But still! Those pictures are incredible, when you think about it.

This is a drawing Leo made when I was pregnant with the babies, a few days after I took him and Ellie to an OB appointment with me (yeah, that was fun). It was winter break so the kids were home from school and my dad and stepmom, who were supposed to be there watching the kids had been unable to come because of that little thing called the Blizzard of 2010. The drawing depicts me on the exam table getting an ultrasound (standard for every OB visit when pregnant with twins). On the left is Leo and Ellie, in the middle is the doctor (those little "dots" are the keys on her "computer.") And very faintly there near Leo and Ellie, you can see, babies. I knew the minute Leo showed me this drawing back in January that I wanted it in the babies' room.

Hopefully a lot of good times and plenty of sleep will be had in this room.

We've had a bit of both, already.

Robot, by Leo

2011-10-16T17:50:00.000-07:00

One of the things I love about Leo is his very active imagination. Here he is building a "robot." His hayride days appear to be over, but he's very good at making structures out of found objects. Just look at his focus, his concentration. There's great attention to detail too. That orange safety cone? It was meticulously filled with leaves. The ghost was a last minute addition, after Erin and Ellie came home with Halloween decorations.

One Year Ago

2011-10-15T18:08:00.000-07:00

A year ago today I got my first "officially" positive pregnancy test (as in, a blood test at the doctor's office).

It was a spectacular, crystal clear, classic New York City fall day. The sky was perfectly blue, the air was crisp, the leaves on the trees in Bryant Park were beginning to change. I had the blood work done before work and walked, a little giddy and a bit in disbelief, to my office on Sixth Avenue. It didn't seem possible. Pregnant. On the first try.

That's when I had the feeling. I knew I was bleeding. And I was pretty sure the pregnancy was not to be.

How ironic, I thought, to start bleeding just minutes after the test. How cruel.

As soon as I got to work I called Erin and told her what was happening.

"Well, so much for that one," I said quietly, apologetically. "I'm sorry. It was too good to be true I guess. But we'll try again."

She agreed with every word and told me she was sorry too, but that maybe things would still be OK?

A few hours later the nurse called me back with my "numbers" (the results of the level of pregnancy hormones).

"Oh, that's OK," I said to her when she told me the numbers were "very reassuring."

"I've been bleeding all morning," I said. "I don't think it's going to work out."

When I got home from work that night, I had a large glass of wine. Why not? I wasn't pregnant after all.

The bleeding stopped within a day. A week later I started feeling exhausted and nauseous.

Reason for Exhaustion and Nausea #1

Reason for Exhaustion and Nausea #2

Little did I know just how very pregnant I was.

And what a difference a year makes.

Bedtime Antics

2011-10-14T18:32:00.000-07:00

I tried to get a shot of Lucy sucking on Harry's elbow but I couldn't get it. Apparently I was taking too long to get her dinner. The service around here can be a bit slow.

Happy Friday everyone! And thank goodness for chemistry and for all the good wishes. I am feeling better already.

Some Cuteness and It's Too Early For This

2011-10-13T18:04:00.000-07:00

Lucy, the Crazy Tongue Wagger. The girl loves her new-found tongue.

Also, Ellie and I both have strep. Harry does not (adding to my list of Things That Are Pathetic: watching a four month old get a strep test). Poor guy didn't know what hit him. He has a raspy, too many Marlboros smoker's cough, which is why the doctor decided to test him. But no strep.

So here I sit again, amongst unfolded clean laundry. Only tonight, I'm too tired and feeling too lousy to even care. So that's progress, I guess.

21 Things About Today (part one)

2011-10-12T18:09:00.000-07:00

1. Ellie went to PreK today. By the time I get her there and pick her up she's at school for about three and a half hours. That's considered a "half-day." Fastest three and half hours of my day.

2. Lucy found her tongue today. I didn't know it was possible to smile and stick your tongue out but wow. Cuteness.

3. I'm pretty certain I have strep throat. Really hoping if I do that I'm the only one who has it. Going to the doctor tomorrow.

4. The season finale of "Breaking Bad" was awesome. I just watched it. I'm not usually one for gore but that was pretty freaking cool.

5. The only thing I miss about Brooklyn is good take-out. We have two options here in suburban New Jersey. Pizza and Chinese. Not a huge fan of either (or at least bad versions of the two). In case you were wondering, we had bad Chinese tonight.

6. I ran out of dog food and made the dog brown basmati rice which (surprise!) didn't seem to do it for her. But if she barks and wakes up four children I cannot be trusted with what I might do. I will never forget to buy dog food again. She really wants some of this Chinese food. Even though it's bad.

7. Ellie and I went to Saks Fifth Avenue today to return something (not a place I frequent, believe me, but I had a gift card) and Ellie wanted me to buy purple glittery Christian Louboutin platform heels. They were $425. I was dressed a little shlubby (at least for Saks standards) but the salespeople were very nice to us, I think, because the babies were putting on a cute show.

8. I hate homework. Leo used to do his homework at after care and word has it, he was a good sport about it. Of course he was. He saves all of his antics for us. Since I'm home on maternity leave right now, we do it as soon as he gets home (to get it out of the way). He comes off the bus all smiley and happy and then he gets in the door and remembers homework and becomes grumpy. We get through it, but it's not always pretty. The fact that the babies are usually flirting with witching hour during homework time does not help our cause either.

9. We moved the babies out of our room last week and I have to say it is so wonderfully awesome to have our bedroom back. It feels just a little bit normal again: we can read, watch TV, fold laundry, without tiptoeing around (nursery tour to come once I can get some good photos).

10. I have to fill out this Vineland Adaptive Behavior Scales Parent Rating Form for Leo's upcoming school evaluation and oh I am procrastinating. Hate that thing. Although, some of the questions are sort of funny: "[does the student] understand that others do not know his thoughts unless he or she says them." I have got to make time for this form. Did I mention it takes me seemingly forever these days to accomplish a single task? Oh look, I can't even make it to twenty-one. To be continued.

Fail Recovery

2011-10-11T17:55:00.000-07:00

I missed posting yesterday. I hate that I missed (I'm a little compulsive about promises) but I just didn't have it in me at the end of the day. I felt a little down. More than spent. Just didn't feel like getting on the computer and what? Whining? Boring.

But today was a new day. A much better day. I'm almost always heartened by how much better things tend to look in the morning. The house smells like coffee, the big kids are fresh off a good night's sleep (usually), the babies tend to take nice little morning naps and fifty percent of them wake up smiling and laughing.

These are oldish pictures of the babies. They're about two months old here. Let's just say they don't sleep quite as much now during the day. But they are way more smiley.

Right now Leo and Ellie are up too late but they're in their respective beds just laughing and giggling. Chatting. I really couldn't ask for more.

Life's a little hard right now, but it's good.

One is the New None and Some Updates

2011-10-09T17:31:00.000-07:00

More pictures having nothing to do with my post. Just gratuitous, blurry cuteness.

It occurred to me today, as I took Ellie on a little trip to Target while Erin stayed home with Leo and the babes, that going out with one kid is the new none. That is to say, time was, back in those lazy, self-indulgent (ha ha) days of just two kids, it was no big deal to say "honey I'm gonna run to Target" and leave the two hooligans. And it is still not such a big deal if one of us is left with all four. It's just not, shall we say, relaxing. In any possible way. And so, one is the new none. Taking one chatty, curious and dare I say agreeable four-year-old to Target? Well it's a downright vacation. It felt strange to be able to just walk away from the cart and not worry about it (you know, since it wasn't the stroller carrying two tiny human beings that I'm so accustomed to having with me on nearly every outing).

A few other thoughts:

-Ellie is in love with Halloween. I'm not sure what she's more excited about, the decorations, the costumes or the forthcoming candy. Last week I bribed her with taking a walk with the promise that we would spot Halloween decorations. We did, though there were some that were "too scary." She had to look away.

-Leo and Ellie's Halloween costume choices have been secured. No I'm not telling! You'll just have to stay tuned. Let's just say Ellie and I scored the perfect accessories for her costume on Friday. Leo came home from school and promptly announced he wanted to be the male version of what Ellie is going to be which is fine, but of course I have to go back to tall the stores where I purchased Ellie's accessories. I should have known.

-Leo is starting private speech therapy this week. Last week Leo had his formal evaluation and the speech therapist was very complimentary, declaring his expressive language exceptional. She predicted he'll probably score at about the level of a fourteen year old (!). Now, to work on being more understood. I'm excited and hopeful. I can't say the same about hauling all four to said speech therapy sessions, but there you go. He's also being re-evaluated at school (to make sure he's getting the right amount of therapy, that his placement is appropriate). I'm not expecting any surprises there but it should prove interesting.

-The babies are four months old (and nine days) old. They are smiling and laughing and generally just downright ridiculously adorable. I mean honestly, can you think of a more wonderful sound in the history of the universe than a giggling baby? They are more and more interactive with us and the world around them every day. It's refreshing to not be nursing them constantly anymore. They are true, little people. Now if they fuss I can ask one of the big kids to read them a book or (Ellie's specialty) sing them a song and this will almost always entertain them for a few minutes. Lastly, it's reassuring to know if we run out of food, we always have those thighs (see above).

First Cop-Out

2011-10-08T18:25:00.000-07:00

This photo of Lucy has nothing to do with this post, just some random cuteness to spice up my lame cop-out.

I'm spent. I have nothing interesting to say. I just had a big bowl of pasta and a brownie and my body is quivering with tiredness and it does at the end of every day, these days. Boring.

The good news is, my standards are plummeting. There are several baskets of unfolded (but clean!) laundry around me and I. Just. Can't. Bring. Myself. To. Fold. Them.

Tomorrow is another day.

Finn

2011-10-07T18:47:00.000-07:00

Here's the permission slip Leo brought home yesterday.

Finn the Therapy Dog.

Leo loves Finn. Finn also "worked" at the school last year and he was, no one is probably shocked to hear, a roaring success. The idea is kids will read more comfortably and be less inhibited if they're around an uncritical, patient, um, creature.

Like Finn.

Some mornings, Leo is not so excited to get on the bus. I think it's mostly for show (anyone who knows Leo can vouch for the fact he has a flair for the drama). What always helps is for him to bring something with him. Leo has been known to bring some pretty odd things on the bus. Pillow Pet, umbrella (on a non-raining day), giant, musical Christmas book. He bounds down the stairs and across the grass, clutching whatever item he's chosen.

This morning, the only thing that would get him on the bus? That picture of Finn, you see up there.

The Best Thing About Having a Roommate

2011-10-06T18:50:00.000-07:00

Also the best thing about having a brother. And a sister.

You're never alone.

Prank

2011-10-05T18:13:00.001-07:00

This morning before school, as most mornings, I was doing approximately seventeen things at once. Packing Leo's and Ellie's lunches, unloading and loading the dishwasher, bringing up laundry from the basement, popping Lucy's pacifier back in her mouth as she squirmed and whined softly in her plush papasan swing (Harry was uncharacteristically sleeping in, snoring blissfully upstairs in the center of our king size bed.)

Leo woke up grouchy. Erin had to leave for work early and he was not happy that he didn't get to say goodbye to her. He stomped around the house and was a veritable miniature black cloud of crabbiness. Nothing I said cheered him, not even the promise of his beloved scrambled eggs.

"What if we call Mama? Do you want to say good morning?"

"Yeah!" Leo popped up like a top and finally, a smile.

I dialed Erin's number, she answered, I handed Leo the phone and walked back to the kitchen to return to my chores.

They had a brief conversation. And then, quiet.

I should have been suspicious of the silence, I suppose. I guess I figured had just found "Hey Diddle Diddle" or "Humpty Dumpty" on YouTube (his go-to favorites). The next thing I knew, Leo was bounding into the kitchen and shaking my cell phone at me. I blinked, and clearly on the phone saw Mrs. L's (Leo's teacher) name and number being dialed. Did I mention it was 6:45 in the morning?

I grabbed the phone and punched "end call," but not soon enough, since not even a minute later, the land line rang. It was Mrs. L. Was everything OK? She wanted to know. Since she had just received a call from Leo.

I love that Leo can read now. But not so much at 6:45 in the morning (I do not love that Leo is an iPhone expert). Our apologies again, Mrs. L. Thanks for being such a good sport. And a great teacher.

Autumn Walk

2011-10-04T18:35:00.000-07:00

Late this morning, the babies got fussy. Lucy, bless her, is not such a great daytime sleeper. She is the happiest baby I've ever had, ever met, but she seems to get bored. I think she likes to do stuff. She's an out and about kind of girl.

So we took a walk. It would be hours before Ellie's dentist appointment (the main activity of the day). Ellie kept asking "Now are we going to the dentist?" I've never met anyone that excited about the dentist. Only a four year old.

Just as planned, just a few blocks into our walk, both babies passed out quickly, one after the next.

Unfortunately, the nap was rather short-lived. But Lucy woke up cheerful and refreshed.

Lucy, as usual, cracking up at something her big sister said.

Or maybe she's just happy because she's sporting the most adorable pumpkin hat I've ever seen.

Harry seems disappointed by his plain, non-fruit oriented hat. Sorry buddy. You can wear it next time.

Roomies

2011-10-03T19:47:00.000-07:00

Ellie knew just what she wanted to share at "show and tell" this morning:

(Ellie's daily report from pre-k)

Guess who are roomies now?

Harry and Lucy moved out of our room (sniff! haha kidding) into Ellie's old room in the hopes that I may sleep again. And Ellie moved into Leo's room. Yes it was quite the busy weekend around here.

Leo and Ellie seem to be enjoying it so far. As I told a gleeful Ellie, now every night is a sleepover!

Unadulterated Joy

2011-10-02T12:17:00.000-07:00

Kind of cheating today with a picture post.

This photo was taken by my friend, the wonderful photographer Stephanie Willson (look her up if you're in the Tampa area!). She came to New Jersey in June, two weeks after the babies were born, all the way from Florida to do a newborn shoot. I will always be very grateful for this (and come to think of it I should post some of those pictures sometime).

But she also took this wonderful picture of Leo, which in my mind, perfectly sums up his spirit. Most every day a joyful display like this comes out, and like most kids, it doesn't take much. But I think it's fair to say that Leo's appreciation of the every day goes way above most other people. A new tennis ball to throw to the dog, a favorite brand of cheese crackers to snack on while grocery shopping with Mommy, and yes, a new pool for the backyard (see above). Leo seems to feel things more intensely than anyone else I've ever known (and this goes for happiness as well as sadness). Is it that mysterious extra chromosome? Who knows. But as my mom would have said, when he is good, he is very, very good. Of course he can drive you bonkers when he gets in one of his moods, but that smile? That laugh? That jumping up and down display of joy when things are going his way?

Sometimes, you can try really hard to be in a bad mood around Leo. But he just won't let you.

Giving it the Old 31 for 21 Try

2011-10-01T14:28:00.000-07:00

I'm terrified I'm going to screw this one up, but I've done "31 for 21" for the past three years. It feels sacreligious to not at least try this year. I'm just a little busier than usual but I'm also a perfectionist who likes to write, so.

Some of the pieces I'm most proud of on this blog (like this one, this one, this one, and this one) were written as part of "31 for 21." I can't promise I'll be up to form this time around (I'm looking at you Harry and Lucy) but I think it's a wonderful cause and a great exercise.

Let's do this!

61

2011-09-30T00:00:00.000-07:00

I'm remembering my mom today, just a little bit more than usual.

My mom and me in Paris, 1999. We Could. Not. Stop. Eating. Crepes. At the end of our trip we would buy a crepe every chance we had even if we weren't hungry, just because we could. Nutella, or swiss cheese and ham or just plain old "beurre sucre" (butter and sugar). This picture makes me smile every time I look at it. It's like a mugshot. The Crazy Crepe Eaters.
(Photo by Rick Regan)

Today she would have turned 61. Last year I had a lot more time and brain space to write a meaningful post (ah the days of uninterrupted blog writing). Every word of it still rings true today. Except of course for the now four grandchildren she never got to meet.

Gah.

Miss you and love you, Mom. Happy, happy birthday.

A "Room" of My Own and Some Bullets

2011-09-26T17:44:00.000-07:00

We did a bit of furniture rearranging this weekend. You can imagine with four kids, two of them babies, our already not spacious house is feeling oh, just a tad crowded. Part of it is all the stuff. Two swings, two bouncy chairs, two car seats. You get the idea.

We turned our old office, which used to be the dining room, into a nursery, which...the babies aren't technically sleeping in yet. That's a post (snore) for another day. In any case, my "writing" desk moved into the living room. We tried two different locations and it just didn't quite work in either one. So in the midst of yet more furniture swapping, Erin floated the idea of putting my desk in the mud room.

"It will be just like that movie!" she said excitedly.

"The Towering Inferno?" I asked, slumping into a puddle of exhaustion on the couch. Because that's what life's been feeling like a little bit lately: major disaster movie.

"No! That one with Diane Keaton, the writer, you know!" she said.

Oh righhhhttttttt.

Yeah, this is totally my new office (see above). HAHAHAHAHA.

And I tried not to take offense that the room where in theory, I'm to do most of my writing is also the room the dog is most likely to poop in.
***
There's so much to cover. I think it's time for a bullet post.

-Lately I vacilate between moments of What's the Big Deal? I Can Totally Do This Four Kid Thing to OH MY GOD WHAT WERE WE THINKING I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND. I will say that we laugh a lot. Mostly at the ridiculous absurdity that is our life. One of the best comments anyone ever left on this blog was "If you're going to laugh about it some day you might as well laugh about it now." Yup, that really sums it up.

- Leo is set to start private speech therapy soon, which I'm very excited about. Just getting the time to make the phone call to the insurance company, finding a therapist, gathering the materials, all of this was so daunting in the face of everything that's going on right now. But the paperwork is in, the appointment is made, and I'm breathing a little sigh of relief that we are on this path of something that feels really important.

-To backtrack a little, I spoke with his school district assigned therapist who expressed concern about Leo's speech. Of course this was both validating and depressing. She noted that he's regressed in several speech areas, is unable to make a few letter sounds that he was making as recently as spring. "What happened over the summer?" she asked. "Did he go to summer school?"

YES.

Gee, this summer? Oh, not much happened. Not that I'm blaming the birth of the babies on Leo's speech "regression" or whatever you want to call it, but Speech Therapist certainly poured salt in my guilty mom wounds. It is what it is and we're moving forward. So.

-On a positive note, speech-wise? Guess which word Leo can suddenly say clear as a bell? Ellie. Up until about two days ago, he pronounced it "Eh-yee." Now, he can say the "l" in her name perfectly.

In babies news, I'm pretty sure Lucy noticed Harry for the first time this week. They were getting ready for bed and Lucy was just staring a hole through her big brother. He of course was oblivious, ravenous and wiggly and staring a hole through me, so impatient was he to get his next meal.

Doesn't Harry look about 45 years old here? By the way, The little dot on his nose is a scratch. I'm awful about cutting their little finger nails. Sorry guys.

-Speaking of Harry, in the last week or so he seems to have caught up with Lucy in the smiley/chatty/cooing department. He has a deep little voice (for a baby) and suddenly has a lot to say. Leo and Ellie have always gravitated toward Lucy because she is so smiley and gregarious. Poor Harry's had a bad rep for a while--I think Leo and Ellie hold a bit of a grudge against him for all that newborn screaming in the "early" days . "Put Lucy by me, put Lucy by me!" Ellie commands to me as she climbs into the back of the mini van. Hopefully Harry's new found friendliness will put some marks in his court.

-Lucy, is doing these little "baby push-ups." She's pushing her little head forward from her car seat like she has somewhere to go. "She's trying to get out! She's trying to come to me!" squeals Ellie.

-Ellie loves her classes. She says things like "I'm so excited I get to go to gymnastics/swimming/ballet class" at random times throughout the day. She's also started asking me, on an almost daily basis when she is starting kindergarten (I pointed our neighborhood school out to her on a recent walk). The concept of time to a four-year-old is both annoying and adorable.

-Ellie's big realization this week? That it's a good thing we don't have three babies. Why? Because then I would "need three boobs."

Three boobs. That's one we can definitely laugh about right now.

A Promise

2011-09-23T05:19:00.000-07:00

Ellie: "She's gonna be happy when she grows up. Because she's always gonna be my Lucy."

That expression on Lucy's face? Reserved for one person, and one person only.

A Little Whine for Wednesday

2011-09-21T04:31:00.000-07:00

Ouch.

It just feels like there is not enough coffee in the world lately. I feel like I've hit some kind of a sleep wall. I can't really figure it out, because the babies aren't sleeping any less than they were before. Suddenly I am just ten times more exhausted than I have been all summer and oops-it's now fall I guess. OK then.

I know it's really blurry but I just couldn't resist. Did someone say fall? Pumpkins?

I keep hearing different things. Six months is the magic mark when the sleep gets better. Or is it four? Since the babies were technically premature, arriving almost a full month early, they're not really almost four months old. Blah blah blah. I know, boring. And it's not like I haven't done this baby/no sleep thing before (although, not with the two babies thing). I know that it gets better. But when you're in the middle of it and your body aches like you have the worst hangover of your life for days and weeks on end? It does not feel like it will get better.

And last night was the season premiere of one of my favorite shows and I (pathetically) looked forward to it a little bit all day. I DVRed it and Erin and I sat down with our little dinner after all the kids were in bed and it felt just a little bit like old times (i.e. pre-babies/aka when I could hope to sort of sleep through the night/finish a sentence without feeling brain dead/wear pants without elastic). And guess what? I couldn't even keep my eyes open. Sleeping for just two hours (which I can usually hope to do once the babies go down for the night between 8 and 9) was more appealing than my favorite show, the show that could almost always put me in a good mood when I needed a little "pick-me-up." Last night? I just found it annoying/like it was trying too hard.

It doesn't help that today dawned especially early. Side note: do the days even begin? They just all seem to blend together lately as days are apt to do when they "end" at 10:30 pm and start up again at 12:30, 2:30, 4:30 (I'm looking at you Harry). But this morning poor Erin had to leave the house at 4:30 (to work an unusually early shift). Leo (in our bed of course) shot up like firecracker when he heard the front door close. "Where's Mama?" he asked, urgently.

And I groaned. I had one baby in my arms in the midst of nursing and the other blessedly (for now) sleeping in the crib. The plan was to get the nursing baby (which one was it, anyway? Like it mattered) back to sleep for at least another hour or two. And I urged Leo to go back to sleep with us. But he would have nothing of it. Thank goodness he managed to amuse himself for the next two hours without me as I crawled back to bed and prayed that he didn't A) escape out of the front or back door (he's recently learned how to use keys in locks, oy) or B) cook himself breakfast ala scrambled eggs on the gas stove (yes, it's been done/attempted by him. Don't ask).

The happy ending here is, my alarm went off at 6:30 and the babies stayed asleep and I went downstairs to find Leo happily playing in the basement and chattering to himself. When he saw me he demanded "Cat in the Hat" and "pizza." I showered him with praise for letting Mommy go back to sleep and I'll let you figure out which request I complied with.

And just in time for all these glorious classes for Ellie, she caught some kind of icky coughing bug that will surely elicit the Bad Mom Stare if we try to go anywhere today. Ellie woke me up in the middle of the night ("I just want my Mommy!" is there anything more pitiful?). I rubbed her back and listened to her seal bark and finally, when I couldn't take it anymore I rifled through the medicine cabinet to find the medication she was prescribed for last year's bout of croup, hoping that it had not turned poisonous in the last fourteen months.

Even when I'm so tired my eyes are watering, it feels good to leave the house. To do something. Yesterday I took Ellie to the mall to get her bangs cut (no more cute short bob for her, she's announced, she wants to "grow pig tails"). We ended up at the mall's indoor playground where we ran into one of Ellie's friends from preschool. Ellie ran around and played and squealed for a good hour and I got to have a bit of adult conversation. But today I think we need to stay in. I'll do my best from keeping Ellie from coughing the plague all over the babies and I'll be putting on another pot of coffee.

Someday, I'm going to miss all of this. This too shall pass, and all of that. But right now? I just need some sleep.

Apple Picking x Six

2011-09-18T06:12:00.001-07:00

I'm happy to report that autumn appears to have blown in here seemingly overnight. Chilly mornings, crisp, cool, golden days, the evenings are coming earlier, and with them, dramatic pink skies. There's finally a need for a jacket or gasp, my personal favorite, cordoroys.

And in celebration, we went apple picking.

We went earlier than ever this year and it was perfect. No crowds. The better to manuever this not so graceful beast.

As everyone knows, we don't travel light these days (if you squint, you can see the other three out of six of us up ahead in this shot).

Twin apples!

I was very happy and relieved with how the day went. It was the first outing of the kind we took with the babies, the first semi-complicated excursion and while some accomodations from previous years had to be made (Erin and I tag-teamed hayrides with the big kids and of course there we were feeding bottles in the middle of the apple orchard). But all in all, everything went swimmingly. As all the twin moms have assured me with their unsolicited though sweet comments as they've seen me, babies screaming in the background, harried at Target or exasperated at the playground, it truly is getting easier (and better!). We can and will do things as six that we did as four.

It's a good thing they didn't weigh Leo and Ellie upon entering the farm because they just kept eating apples and would have surely charged us extra. Nearly every time I tried to take a picture, someone was eating. But imagine how ridiculous I felt, chiding them for eating too many apples. Leo kept threatening to eat "One hundred!"

Just can't stop eating apples!

Harry, a bit concerned with the apple consumption.

Wide Open Spaces

Note the apple picking ensemble that Ellie selected. As my mom would have said: "It's a look."

The day's Booty.

"Beebeebee Boo"

2011-09-16T05:42:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned before, Leo's speech can be challenging to understand. And the older he gets, the more frustrated he becomes with his inability to get his point across. Of course, who can blame him?

This morning's frustration?

"Beebeebee Boo"

Whaaaa?

"No Mommy! You know it! Beebeebee Boo!"

There I was, trying to do twelve things at once as I'm apt to in the hour before Leo's bus comes, when the babies are taking their early morning nap (and I feel the clock ticking to get things done while I have the chance): throw a load in the wash, get the dishes into the dishwasher, make the kids breakfasts, Leo's lunch, take out the trash and recycling.

Meanwhile, poor Leo is shouting at me, doing his best to act out "Beebeebee Boo," increasingly furious that I am not comprehending him.

I admit it, I get mad when this happens. Not mad at Leo, of course. Mad at the situation. And yes, mad at Down syndrome. It should not be this hard. Poor guy just wants to tell me something. It shouldn't be this frustrating for me, to get it and it shouldn't be this frustrating for him to simply, you know, communicate. We should just be a mom and seven year old boy having a simple conversation in a kitchen about what the seven year old boy wants/needs. Sure I might get annoyed that he needs something when I'm in the middle of so many tasks, but there wouldn't be that added layer of What On Earth Is He Even Saying?

Finally, hitting the wall and knowing I would not get it at this rate, I fell back on my old stand-by:"Draw a picture of it Leo. Draw a picture of what you want so Mommy can understand it."

Leo threw his head back in irritation but complied, disappearing to the living room to begin his work on the large drawing pad on the coffee table.

He returned with a drawing. A sweet little drawing, which I stared at it, blankly. Still nothing. Ugh.

"Write it Leo. Write the words," I urged.

He stomped back to the living room to write something on the paper, then returned to me.

And so I present to you:

DVD Book.

Of course.

"Beebeebee Boo" was "DVD Book." Leo was referencing the "book": (CD/DVD album) where we keep all the kid DVDs. One of Leo's favorite things to do is go downstairs to the basement playroom and put in his DVD of choice. This morning he wanted to eat his breakfast down there and watch a DVD. Why not? It's Friday, after all.

Look at it. It's perfect. The rectangle is the book. Colored in, because the book is black. The circle is the DVD, complete with a little character on it (he did, after all, end up picking an Elmo DVD).

The only good thing that comes out of these incredibly exasperating "what is Leo saying" exchanges is that when we do finally figure out what he's saying? It's like Christmas morning. Very, very exciting. And we all celebrate.

Preview

2011-09-15T15:43:00.001-07:00

It's dawning on Ellie that the babies are not always going to be babies. I've tried to reinforce this from the beginning, that they are not always going to be such attention leeches. They'll be fun! Interactive! Members! Of! Our! Family! I'm probably overly paranoid about resentment, so intent am I to remind them that this intensive newborn phase is purely temporary.

It's already happening. Lucy gazes at Leo and Ellie like they are the second comings. She is in awe of them, it's clear. Harry does too, but he's not quite as fun and responsive yet, so the big kids tend to fawn all over Lucy, for now.

But back to Ellie's realization that the "babies" will not always be so.

"Leo and Ellie and Lucy and Harry, that's FOUR children," she exclaimed from the back of the mini van the other afternoon (where most of our deepest conversations occur). "That's a lot of people! A lot of children!"

I nodded in agreement. No freaking kidding.

"That means there will always be someone to play with!" Ellie continued. "We're going to have so much fun!"

Let's hope!

In Full Swing

2011-09-13T04:25:00.000-07:00

Well, school seems to be off to a good start.

Gratuitous photo having nothing to do with school but ohmygoodness look at my boys!

I haven't heard much from Leo's teacher (which, sigh, means I haven't heard much). But yesterday was the first day of assigned homework and Leo did it right off the bus, with no argument (which probably means today will be a fight since I am committing the mom's sin of saying something went well).

When I was working, homework was always hit or miss. The aftercare teachers would usually do it with him, but sometimes they'd forget, or Leo would refuse. And I always felt like #1 Working Mom when I got the end of the week report and there were several gaps in the homework section. So we'll see how it goes since I'm home for now. I'm making him do it right away, and THEN he gets to go outside and play his weird game of torment/reward the dog with a tennis ball (don't ask).

Yesterday was Ellie's first day of ballet/jazz. She's taking it at a local community center rather than at the "dance school" where she went in the spring. I love this center. You know what else I love? Instead of having to pass through the "dance boutique" that taunts little girls with pink tutus and sequined dance dresses (of which she has several, don't worry she is not deprived in this area), I was greeted with a gently worn ballet shoe bin. You toss in your "old," too small ballet shoes and take a "new pair." Love it.

This is the same center where Leo takes swimming and where Ellie will also take tumbling/gymnastics and swimming (which starts today). I'm not sure who had more fun at dance class, Ellie or the babies. Those babies were the bell of the bench outside the dance room. It was the nannies and me (which...hmm...this is a whole new world for me). There were a couple of moms too but it was heavily nanny. In typical form, Harry was fussing and then all out crying at one point. My new friend Anita the Nanny swooped in and took Harry into her arms (with my permission of course). He fell silent immediately and just stared at her with amazement. As did I.

The babies seemed to love all the attention (seriously, I guess it's been a while since they've seen baby twins around there because every few minutes another mom/nanny/community center employee would peek into the stroller and say "I heard there are some twins over here?") Lucy, her usual social self smiled and cooed and "chatted" with anyone who would make eye contact. Harry fussed and slurped his bottle and nursed in his usual sloppy way, spit up all over me and then was happy as can be, grinning and "talking" to his new found audience. Who needs Gymboree when you have the dance class waiting bench?

Ellie, meanwhile could not stop talking about the little stamps she got on her hand (two green stars) at the end of dance class. Excited really does not begin to cover it. For the rest of the day, Ellie would just say, apropos of nothing "I'm so excited I got to go to dance class today" and "I just love my stamps." There was much consternation at bath time about whether the beloved stamps would-gasp-get washed off.

This morning the first words out of her mouth were to Erin: "Mama! I get to go to swim class tomorrow!" That's when Erin informed her that she actually got to go swimming sooner than that, because tomorrow was now today. "I get to go TODAY?!" she squealed.

The unbridled enthusiasm (for the littlest things) of a four-year-old really does put it all into perspective.

Away They Go

2011-09-07T08:30:00.001-07:00

No matter that Leo's bus didn't show up (hey, you can't have everything, right?) and I ended up driving him.

Leo is off to second grade, Ellie is back to pre-k.

Love these little people to death, but right now I am humming "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year."

Happy back to school to all!

She Said It

2011-09-05T12:35:00.000-07:00

Ellie and were doing Play-Doh (doing? playing? not sure of the correct verb here) this afternoon. Ellie started yawning.

Me: Ellie, are you tired?

Ellie: Yes. (Continues rolling her purple dough).

Me: Maybe you should take a nap later (sighing longingly). I wish I could take a nap.

Ellie: (Pausing a moment) Oh Mommy (in her most incredulous, four-going-on-fourteen-year-old voice), you can't take a nap! You have TWO BABIES!

That Ellie, wise beyond her years.

Three Months, Three Days

2011-09-03T18:29:00.000-07:00

Probably no surprise that I'm late to commemorating the big Three Month Mark.

Three months ago we set out on a journey we shall never forget. We brought THEM home.

Right before this photo was taken a woman stopped dead in her tracks in front of me in the lobby of the hospital and just kept saying "Oh My God, Oh My God." I was like WHAT??? This woman could not take her eyes off the babies. Twins. This was just the beginning and my first introduction into the world's fascination and interest in, dum, dum, dum: TWO BABIES AT ONCE.

Anyway. Three months feels momentous somehow. Maybe because my friend Lisa is teasing me that three months signals an end to what she lovingly calls "newborn hell."

Oh I kid. It hasn't been that bad.

Ahem.

And besides, since we've been here before (sort of, with one baby anyway) I know that it gets better. Tons better. And hey, it's not so bad right now. If only we could drive ten blocks without poor Hair Man falling apart into shrieks of hysteria.

Oh Hair Man (this phrase is probably spoken a dozen times a day, whether he's soiled another bib or showered spit up onto the hardwood floors or just gone bat shi* crazy on a short drive home from Costco. That Harry. He has a hard time. Except when he doesn't. When he smiles at you with his gigantic chocolaty brown eyes, Eyes that are so dark and huge that you can barely see the whites. He adores the changing table (or maybe he just hates wearing pants?). Put him on that table and he dances a little jig and boogies and just comes alive with gleeful smiles. He can chill in his swing for a long time if given the chance. Until he's done. Then he lets you know. Oh does he let you know. But he's also starting to "talk" with that sweet little cooey voice that babies his age have.

I've decided he's just a homebody. He hates the car. Not a huge fan of going places. He does love fresh air and the outdoors. He sure knows how to clear an aisle at Target or Walmart but the minute you take him out of the store and into the parking lot? Silence.

Maybe he just hates shopping.

Then there's Lucy.

Luce. Also known as Pinky Tootenpants (that's Toot-in-pants). Grandpa Rog came up with that moniker. I'll let you guess why.
She's a charmer, that one. She's the quiet one. Little Miss Mellow. Case in point: Thursday was Ellie's annual physical. Since Erin's been home all week on vacation, I saw no reason to drag all fifty children to the pediatrician's office (always a fun time). So we divvied the load. Erin took the boys (stayed home) and I took the girls. We made good time at the doctor's office and since there were tumbleweeds and crickets in the refrigerator, I decided it would be a good afternoon to go to Costco.

I am not kidding you when I say Lucy didn't utter a sound the entire time. It was weird enough being out with one baby (by the way NO ONE paid any attention to us, I felt like such a nobody out and about with just ONE BABY, I mean, how boring!). In addition to the the fact that I felt a little bit like I'd left my right leg at home, I also kept feeling like I forgot someone. Did I leave a baby in the car? On aisle three next to the gigantic jugs of salad dressing?

Lucy is quiet, but she loves to smile. And laugh/giggle/coo. She's just very much "in the world" and she has been for some time. I man this in the way that newborns, when they first arrive seem to spend the first month still gestating. But Lucy, she opened her wide eyes and looked around very early on (for a long time we joked that she didn't blink, that's how wide her gaze is). She's also the smallest and most delicate of any baby we've ever had. She has the teeniest little feet, especially.

Lucy fights sleep in the day, she is that baby who doesn't want to miss a thing.

This picture makes me laugh. It looks like Harry is about twice the size of Lucy. He is a lot bigger. Hmm, I wonder if it's because he eats ALL THE TIME? Perhaps. Hey, he comes by his love of eating honestly. I can't blame the guy. Nor can I resist his Popeye wrists and arms or his thigh-sized cankles, I mean ankles. He's going to be a fun one to feed solid food to. I envision pureeing steaks and whole chickens for him. He's that hungry. In addition to Hair Man, we also affectionately refer to Harry as "Bruiser." Lucy is also known as (probably no surprise here) "Peanut."

Three months. The whole summer. On the one hand, it feels like a long time. Believe me when I say there have been some long days and some even longer nights. But at the same time, these are the last babies we'll have in this house (sniff!), so I know better than to want to rush these precious, arduous, maddening, absurd, yet glorious baby days. I have never been this tired in my life. When I fall into bed at night my body just quivers with exhaustion and winces knowing in two or three hours I'll be up again.

Lucy and Harry, three days old.

It's amazing to stare at these two little people and think that we haven't always known them, that they haven't always been a part of our little family.

And so we've decided to keep them.

New Blog In Town

2011-09-02T18:23:00.000-07:00

For another perspective on the crazy herding cats state of our lives, check this out.

I laughed. I cried. I'm thinking you will too.

Goodnight, Irene: Alternatively Titled I Love Electricity

2011-09-01T06:39:00.000-07:00

I can now say that five out of six of us have experienced our first hurricane (Erin, a New Orleans native is an old pro). And I'm here to tell you I do not need to do that again for a while.

Sunday morning began early, with the cringe inducing thud of the power going out. We sort of knew it was inevitable, it was just a matter of when and for how long. I was nursing the babies when I heard the tell-tale "thud" around 3 a.m. The little sound machine that sits on our bedroom floor next to the crib stopped, the air conditioner silenced and of course, the lights (bathroom, outside): out.

The rain had started around 2 p.m. Saturday and was relentless, battering, Noah's Ark kind of rain. I let the kids play outside for a little bit before the winds came (figuring we'd likely be trapped in the house for a good 24 hours--see above). They are always up for an occasion that requires rain coats and umbrellas.

The winds didn't come until Sunday morning and oh did they come. But a quick peak at the sump in our basement told the saddest tale of all. No power=no sump pump and the waters were rising. Erin bailed. Then I bailed. It hardly made a dent. Our sweet next-door neighbors texted us to see if we needed anything. For some strange reason their power had been restored while ours had not (even though they're just next to us they're on a different power grid). I told them our tale of woe and they responded immediately: Did we need anything? Ice for the melting fridge? Coffee? Babysitters while we bailed?

Did someone say coffee?

Then Erin then had the brilliant idea to plug our sump pump into the neighbors' house (which is so close we can practically stick our hand in their living room window).

SUCCESS!

But perhaps most brilliant of all was her next idea, which was to plug the DVD player and TV into the neighbors' power so that Leo and Ellie would leave us alone for ten minutes. Let's just say between the bailing and the babies and the trapped in the house for twelve hours with no power? It had been a long morning.

And in case anyone is wondering I do not think Leo or Ellie would last long on the prairie (not that I would either). Around 4 p.m. Sunday afternoon the whole house buzzed with the beautiful sound of the power being restored. I whine endlessly here but really we were the lucky ones. Friends close and far on the east coast suffered so much more than we did, not to mention the poor people in parts of the mid-Atlantic and New England and New York and even parts of New Jersey just a few miles from us.

The next morning the sky was bluer and clearer then I've seen it in a long time. The coffee pot was on and full and wafting its gorgeous scent of Stumptown throughout the house, the dishwasher was churning and all the towels, soiled from the basement antics the day before were clean and gracefully spinning around in the dryer. Truly the calm after the storm.

And the battery back-up for the sump pump? It's on its way.

To Be Filed Under: Because How Often Do You Have a Baby Girl?

2011-08-27T11:15:00.000-07:00

Enough about Irene. Let's talk cute baby stuff!

The other day I was cashing in a gift card to diapers.com and stumbled upon the new line of Trumpettes socks and Oh My Goodness the cuteness. I was going to go with the old standby Maryjane but come on, snore. Because, look!

Did you catch the name of the style? Lucy. I just couldn't resist and figured it was pure serendipity.

They're a little big on Lucy-Peanut. But she'll grow. And I just could not resist. Because how often do you have a cute little baby girl to put cute little baby girl things on?

Better Late Than Never: Hurricane Irene Edition

2011-08-26T09:30:00.000-07:00

Because life just wasn't exciting enough lately, let's throw in a hurricane!

Yes, there I was this morning at Target, the poster-child for online shopping thanks to a shrieking Harry. Then the usually placid Lucy joined in and it was a good old infant crying chorus. Cue the looks of pity. And horror, as I steered the twin caboose down the aisles (trust me when I say that thing does not take corners well), while balancing a hysterical Harry on my shoulder. Well what can I say but you can't shop online for supplies for a hurricane (you know, beer, wine--HAHA KIDDING) that's coming, you know, tomorrow.

Did I mention they were completely out of flashlights? Good thing we have those Disney Princess and Toy Story flashlights fully charged. Yes, that's how we roll.

Actually, my sources are now saying the storm may not be as bad as feared. But still. All those dang trees surrounding us. And the basement and our beloved new carpet? Oy.

Speaking of material concerns (I'm also hoping this isn't swept away in the looming maybe-hurricane), behold:

It came last week and all I can say is WHY DIDN'T WE GET THIS BACK IN JUNE OUR SUMMER COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH HAPPIER.

Sorry. Not screaming. Not screaming at all. Anyway, all that matters is that we have it now and I think it's safe to say Leo and Ellie love it.

The day it was installed the kids were at camp. We planned to surprise them when Erin came home from work but there was a massive storm (it fell as dark as night around 5 p.m.) and knowing they'd demand to play on it instantly, rain be damned, we waited until the next morning (a Saturday). How cruel would it have been to say "oh looky a brand new play structure you can't go on because it's raining!" So I closed the kitchen blinds and hurried them in the house from the car that afternoon so that they wouldn't see the gleaming new play palace.

The next morning Leo peered through the window in our bedroom overlooking the backyard and, well, now I know what it sounds like when a seven year old boy has his breath taken away. He gasped. Gasped! And then of course sped downstairs to throw on his galoshes. To play outside. At 5:47 in the morning.

Just Jump Right In

2011-08-20T00:00:00.000-07:00

So here we are. Late summer. The leaves are beginning to fall already (how is that possible?). It seems early for that but I swear they started yesterday. But I'm not complaining.

Leo is on the cusp of second grade. I keep talking about how school is starting soon, the bus is going to start coming again, he'll get to see Mrs L. and his buddy Terry. "No!" he says. Mrs. L. made an adorable end of the year DVD and handed it out in June, a montage of all the fun projects and field trips and lessons (there was Leo on the class trip to the farm, there was Leo making pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, there was Leo planting beans in the school's organic garden). Guess which DVD he's asked to watch over and over and over this summer? Yes, I think he'll be just fine when the little bus pulls up to the house in a few weeks, even though he claims to not want to go back to "big school."

The good news is, his vocabulary seems to be exploding. The bad news? He's getting tougher to understand as words and sentences become more complex. I can only suppose the culprit for this is uncooperative oral tone. I feel like I keep waiting for his speech to get better but it's just not. And he's seven. And there's no more room for excuses. It's breaking my heart and it's frustrating us all. As he gets older, he's less patient with us and I don't blame him. First priority: scheduling a meeting with his school speech therapist, stat, to see if he can get more speech added to his IEP and also maybe supplement with some private therapy. I'm the first to be skeptical about throwing a bunch of therapy at something but hey, it's worth a shot. And what other options do we have? It's our responsibility to help him be the best he can be, to help him be able to connect with the world.

In Ellie news, I just signed her up for three classes (ballet/jazz, swimming and gymnastics) and I don't know who I think I am, carting around newborn babies in the middle of the day who should be home napping. But I know myself and I know her. We need to be busy. And if she doesn't stop pulling her Mary Lou Retton routine with the couch cushions I'm going to stab myself. This girl needs a tumbling mat.

Speaking of Ellie, she has been such a trooper lately. Both kids have. I keep waiting for some signs of frustration with the babies but seriously you have never seen two more proud and doting older siblings. As I've said before, sometimes they are almost too crazy about the babies. I find myself telling them to leave the babies alone constantly. Leo, especially, makes it his personal mission to soothe a crying baby. If there is a pacifier around, he will try his darndest to get it in and No One Can Stop Him.

The hardest are the evenings, when the babies are crying and overtired (and the grown-ups would often like to cry). Erin is with Leo and I'm with the babies and Ellie is whining for "just one more" back-rub. Bedtimes are as hectic as you can imagine with four and seem to take hours lately. I know it won't always be this way, we'll find our routine. The babies will someday have an actual bedtime and I'll get my quiet, unhurried moments back with the kids (and Erin and myself).

I'm slowly finding my little way on maternity leave as a stay at home mom, trying to figure out how to find meaning in the minutiae, or not (sometimes laundry is just laundry). Mainly I'm just trying to stay in the "now" and enjoy this time. This baby time. It's not going to last. It's so different with two (though I'm sure it would be different with one as well, when there are two older ones to tend to). It feels like there is less time for "bonding." Heck, bonding would be positively luxurious. We're in maintainance mode here. Keep them fed, clean, diapers changed, hopefully not crying too much. Of course there are little windows of snuggle time and one on one and I cherish those.

They are both beginning to smile and coo and do that delightful little baby chatter and it is killing me with the cuteness. They both, upon awakening give me giant smiles and that little look of recognition as if to say, "Hey! I know you! And I like you!"

And there is that little issue of Harry being hungry all the time.

(Thanks to our friends Ben and Lisa for these amazing pictures.) I thought I'd give you all a break from the iPhone photos and give you a little glimpse of our summer (didn't think you'd want pictures of bedtime).

The Explosion and the Aftermath

2011-08-15T11:30:00.000-07:00

“What happened to my life? It feels like it just exploded.”

These are lines from a movie that I cannot, for the life of me, remember. Shocking I’m sure, knowing my eternally sleep-deprived state. All I know is, these lines popped into my brain the other day and I have not been able to get them out. Because it’s exactly how I feel.

Let me step back and say that I would not for a minute, wish that anything had gone differently than it did, or has. I love, love, love the babies. But I would be lying if I said that life has been anything other than a bit, well, crazy lately.

Of course it has, you’re thinking. You’ve gone from two kids to four. You have two newborns.

But I'm a bit of a control freak. And my life has never been messier than it is right now (and I mean that both literally and figuratively).

It’s all so complicated.

Most people of a certain age, I think, have momentous events in their life, some good, some bad, nevertheless they are moments of demarcation: Before this, my life was this and after? It was never the same. I think I’ve had that happen three times now.

1. When I found out my mom had cancer and she was dead four months later (that was one long moment of demarcation.)

2. When Leo was born with Down syndrome.

3. When my doctor calmly and coolly announced at my six week ultrasound, “You have twins.”

And life, as they say, was never the same.

It reminds me of one of my favorite sayings: "People make plans, god laughs."

Oh, and another one: Everything Happens for a Reason.

And on that cloudy November day last year, I promptly burst into tears when Dr. T. made the proclamation and turned the ultrasound monitor in our direction to show two perfectly round sacs, two little people, with two tiny heartbeats, already. How would we ever do this? I wasn’t completely surprised, I’ll admit. I’d been sick since the pregnancy test showed the plus sign and my hormone levels were a bit high. There was a bit of foreshadowing and I had a feeling, but denial was fierce. We’d had two singletons the exact same way we’d become pregnant with our “third.” There was no way it could be twins this time.

But it was. And of course, they are.

Lucy and Harry, 10 weeks

My biggest fear when we learned our third would be our third and fourth, was for Leo. How would we possibly be able to give him everything he needs with our attention and resources so stretched?

Thank goodness for Dr. T., who in that moment of discovery said all the right things. I can’t say that I (pretty hysterical and hyperventilating) remember all that much of what was said, I just know he made me feel better. It was something along the lines of:

A) You can do this.
B) You aren’t the first people to do this.
C) You have plenty of love to go around.
D) You will surprise yourselves.
E) This might actually be a good thing for the children you already have, especially Leo.

I’ve worried since that cloudy November day about my capacity to do this, this mothering of four, this having twins, properly. I’ve mourned the loss of our “easy” life, the closeness I had with Leo and Ellie that has temporarily (I hope) been sidelined by the constant neediness of the babies.

The last two months have been the hardest two months of my life. Scratch that. Life since November of last year has been pretty rough. Of course it hasn’t all been bad. Leo and Ellie were ecstatic when we told them about the babies and their enthusiasm for the most part, hasn't budged (except maybe when Harry pulls one of his screamathons in the minivan). But. I got sick right away with the twins and by the time I’d recovered from the “morning sickness” (which was really all day sickness), I was physically encumbered. Huge and heavy and swollen and yes, grouchy. In a sense, things have been out of control since the start of all of this, this twin journey.

And yet. These babies.

When I finally broke the news at work that I was not only pregnant but that it was twins, news traveled fast. I returned from lunch one day to a congratulatory email from a colleague. “You are one brave woman,” she wrote. And went on to say how happy she was for me and my beautiful, growing family.

“Brave! I’ll say,” I typed back, my response tinged with fear and uncertainty and a healthy dose of what have we done/what is going to become of us? (not sure if you she could read between the lines). “I can think of another one!” My list was long: terrified and crazy topped it.

The email alert on my computer chimed almost instantly:
“I can think of another word too,” she responded. “How about, lucky?”

I am many things these days. Tired, broken, depleted, short-tempered, overwhelmed. But this too shall pass. I know this. And also?

Lucky.

And that’s all I really have to remember.

Two Months and (Finding) Routine

2011-08-10T08:28:00.000-07:00

These babies.

Lucy, two months. So smiley and social and chatty (cooing and squeeling).

Harry, not quite as happy (oh geez, the comparisons are starting already, poor things!) but getting there. And he's such a snuggler.

For some reason, I seem to have way more photos of Harry. Oh right, I happen to be holding him a lot more. Also, I think when he is happy? I want to document it.

Hard to believe they are more than two months old.

Harry's tummy troubles (knock wood) seem to be getting SO much better and he is way less fussy than he was even a week ago. It's still remarkable someone can spit up quite as much as he can and still gain weight, but he's just fine in that department (see below). He must go through five bibs and as many onesies in a day. As improved as he is, he is still one inconsolable guy, once he gets going, particularly in the car. Or the grocery store. Or during the older kids' bed time. You get the idea. Luckily Leo and Ellie are TROOPERS when it comes to the crying. Yesterday we had to drive my dad to the airport and hit traffic coming home. Harry wailed for thirty minutes. No singing, or talking or stroking of the forehead or pacifier would help. Meanwhile Leo and Ellie chatted in the way back of the mini van talking about "doctor dog" (don't ask) and snacked on cheese crackers.

Leo might just be the most loving, proud big brother ever.
He's always walking over to me when I'm with the babies posing and saying "cheese" (wanting me to take his picture with them).

The babies are still pretty small (tenth percentile for weight which our doctor said is just fine for twins). They seem positively gigantic (especially Harry) compared to how wee they were when they were born (and we all know they were huge for twins). But just to give you an idea of what we're accustomed to in the baby department around here? Lucy at two months still weighs less than what Ellie weighed when she was born. Ahem!

In other news, the babies (and the rest of us) hit Manhattan last weekend for brunch (in that photo we were enroute to meeting Erin and Leo). Indeed, we had to take two modes of transportation (Erin and Leo took the train into the City and yes, Leo's mind was pretty much blown by the train AND the taxi ride to the restaurant). Scary but true that we can't all fit into the mini van.

We had a wonderful visit with my dad last week (Grandpa), just as we loved having all the family that came to us this summer for love and support and yes, help. I realize this is not an Oscar's acceptance speech but believe me when I say, we couldn't have done it without you.

Summer is waning. The visits have come to an end and reality is hitting. Back to routine (or should I say, an attempt to carve some out/return to old ones that can be restored when there are four little ones instead of two).

We're ready.

Catch-Up Part 1

2011-08-03T10:21:00.000-07:00

We're plugging along over here. I can't believe it's already August and that back to school is around the corner. I think Leo is ready and has been ready for a while. As much as he loves that the bus "brings him home" (the summer school bus, that is, though that ended weeks ago--here's proof of just how behind posting I am) he is a Routine Guy, as well as a guy who needs to be busy. It hasn't been easy for me to keep him as occupied as he might like to be lately (for obvious reasons). Looking at you Harry and Lucy.

But there has been plenty of fun this summer, much of it close to home and backyard related (see above). Nobody seems to mind.

Let's see. What have I been up to?

Well, I went to Costco last week. I didn't buy much, as you can see, as there is not much room to fit anything, even in these ginormous, super-sized warehouse worthy carts.

I made these for Leo's birthday.

I know. Many of them look like Dora has a mustache.

I'm not normally this ambititious when it comes to baking but we kept asking Leo what he wanted for his big day and he would literally answer either "scrambled eggs!" or "Dora cupcakes!" (he saw the recipe on a segment on Nick Jr., the children's television station). The day I made them was a bit of a comedy of errors. Erin took the day off from work and took the big kids out to lunch while I stayed home for Operation Cupcakes. I would get the babies sleeping and literally the second I got to a crucial step in the process, one of them would fuss. Lucy whined through most of the face decoration portion, while Harry cried during the hair. Needless to say that cupcakes were finished, far from perfect, but there was one mighty pleased, newly minted seven-year-old boy who enjoyed every bite.

Oh looky. Babies awake. What a shock. Anyway, I'm alive! I wrote something.

More soon.

Seven

2011-07-29T06:15:00.000-07:00

How is it that our baby boy is SEVEN?

Seven years ago today you gave me one of the biggest surprise of my life. The surprises only kept coming with you, and they've only gotten better.

Oh, my Leo. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know. As well as the ability to aggravate me to the ends of the Earth. It's the perfect mix really. I certainly can't say you don't make life more interesting. And you make me laugh every single day.

This year your language really exploded. You're now quite the conversationalist, with little phrases like "I'll be right back" and "I got it it!" and "I'm OK!" (said after crashing down somewhere which you often do, man you are tough--for you to cry means it really hurt!). Come to think of it, you are more apt to cry when your feelings are hurt than when you're injured.

"I don't know" is another favorite, which you say with a sheepish grin when you full well know the answer but decide you don't want to share.

You read. It's so wonderful! Also? Inconvenient. There is no more lying to you about what shows are on TV (you can read the listings on the menu screen) and you totally knew when Grandma and Grandpa's birthday package arrived and it was addressed to you. Darn it!

You still love scrambled eggs and grapes. They are really all you need to survive though you humor me with the occasional carrot stick. Oh and cupcakes. Don't get me started (or you!) started on those. But just the tops. You are all about the frosting.

You love to dress up and make people laugh and I'm pretty certain you have a future in the theater. "Sophisticated sense of humor" is still one of the favorite comments you received from a teacher on one of your report cards.

Whatever you decide to do in life, I'm so glad I get to be along for the ride.

Sister Love

2011-07-26T09:04:00.000-07:00

My sister Norah and Lucy

Look! Two posts in one day! As Ellie would say, can you even believe it?

My sister Norah was here visiting from Oregon (by way of Korea) last week. I planned on writing about her time with us but was waiting to get the disc of photos she'd taken to help illustrate the post (to make up for my door photo. Ahem.) Also, for some strange reason, I can't blog much lately (and my posts are often stingy...hmm I wonder why?).

In short, we had a great visit. Aunt Norah has a way with the big kiddos (and the littles). We hadn't seen her since her wedding two years ago so the kids had grown up quite a bit. It was so wonderful having them get to know her. She taught them charades, showed undaunting patience in the face of some moments of fierce sibling rivalry and indulged Ellie in plenty of princess talk. She and I stayed up late to watch the season premiere of Breaking Bad and also shared our love of a good (well earned--i.e. took all four kids to the park on a 90+ degree day) glass of wine come 5 o'clock, many a day.

Oh and maybe best of all? Her visit allowed me a pedicure (much needed as the babies came early and I never did do that spa day that was on my pre-delivery to do list). Saint Norah walked up and down a busy, suburban New Jersey avenue, soothing the fussing babies (I'm looking at you, Harry) while I read gossip magazines and sipped a coffee Coolata and just stared at a wall while "Sangria" (really just a fancy term for hot pink) was applied. Ahhhhhh.

There's more to say, but now I don't have to write about our visit because Aunt Norah did a much better than I ever could. The pictures aren't bad either (not that I'm biased of the subjects or anything).

Shhhh. And Look! A Door!

2011-07-26T08:33:00.000-07:00

Quite possibly the most boring picture that has ever graced this blog but also perhaps one of the most exciting (to me anyway).

Lucy is napping in HER OWN ROOM.

See that picture? Yes, it's a wall, folks. A wall! With a door! Which makes it a room. That used to be our dining room. It's now a nursery.

The babies will stay in our room for the forseeable future. I'm not ready to cut the cord quite yet and it makes sense to keep them nearby for now, but the fact that I can put them in this room and close the door whenever I want? This is huge. I just had no idea Leo and Ellie would find the babies so fascinating, particularly when they are asleep in their little bouncy chairs or the swing. They just love to wake those babies.

Back to The Room. The, gulp, nursery! I've been shopping. At least, virtually (babies are great at saving you money, or at least keeping you from spending it, since every time I walk into store one of them starts howling). But oh yeah, the internet (although they interrupt that kind of shopping too). We spent next to nothing on baby supplies, either scoring items on Craigs List or getting hand-me-downs from very generous friends. So I figure a few cutie decorations are justified.

This is just adorable. And I love this rug. I'm tempted to go for white since the dog won't be allowed in here and there won't be any eating but still, is white crazy for a babies' room?

Not to get ahead of myself, but this little napping feat, not in a bouncy chair? (OK, full disclosure, Harry is in the swing but he started out awake so that counts for something!) gives me such hope. Dare I say we might someday be on some sort of schedule?

But, the plight of being kid #3 and #4? is that in exactly thirty-three minutes I have to put sleeping babies in the car to go pick Ellie up from school. The babies have been sleeping for less than thirty. Nooo! Well there's always the afternoon nap at least.

Oops. The battery on Harry's swing died so he's up. Lucy is still snoozing though. I can't leave her here, can I?

KIDDING.

Sedated ABR: Check

2011-07-25T06:20:00.000-07:00

A little loopy on the pre-op sedative. Can you tell?

The sedated ABR last week was a success. While they were in there, no evidence of fluid was found, so one tube was removed (geez they're tiny--they gave it to us in a specimen cup)--the other had already fallen out. Leo's hearing is nearly normal except for some loss at low level frequencies. That's a relief.

It's the first procedure of Leo's I've not been present for. That made me feel strange and a little sad.

Now, if we'd just mustered the courage to ask the anesthesiologist to cut Leo's hair while he was under.

Lazy, Hazy Baby Days of Summer

2011-07-20T09:10:00.000-07:00

A common site around here. The pink pillow. Me=passionate breast feeder who looks forward to the day I can burn that pink pillow! Nursing two, while unquestionably worthwhile, is a whole different ballgame. The view from here has changed just slightly.

Both babies are asleep! Leo and Ellie are at school/camp! Quick! Blog!

Let's see.

Where do I even begin? Eyeroll: how many of my posts lately have gone this way?

I MISS you. But these darn kids, I tell you!

I'm working at lowering my standards. It's going OK though others might disagree.

Afternoons are by far the hardest, when the big kids are home and hot and sometimes bored and needing snacks and and and. We're all doing the best we can, it's all we can do.

Not much to say about sleep really. At seven weeks things are better but certainly we have a long way to go.

Harry continues to have horrific spit-up issues. If he's not sleeping or eating, odds are he's crying.

Oh sure he looks mellow here. Don't be fooled. Also who wants to see a picture of a crying baby?

He has tiny windows of placidity but overall, he's one uncomfortable guy. My heart breaks for him. Yesterday I eliminated dairy from my diet to see if that helps. Word is it will take between 24 hours and a week to tell a difference. And being one to not do anything halfway we ALSO started him on Pepcid which was pointed out to me as being silly (to do both, i.e. how will we know which one is doing the trick if in fact his condition improves?).

We were all shocked by how calm he was during a recent bath.

And this is more like it. Perturbed. Poor guy! (But don't you love what the bath does for his hair?)

Anyway, dairy free me. The things we do for love. Sigh. All I know is, half in half in my coffee, I miss you already.

And Lucy's awake. So this is cut short.

I'll just say this. Someday we'll look back on this and laugh and cry and maybe roll our eyes a little. This will be That Summer. I'm quite sure of it. Yup, the summer our kid-load doubled. The summer we added two little cuties. Lost our minds a little, but certainly expanded our hearts.

But as you can see, when things are good, they are very, very good.

Four

2011-07-15T05:27:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday Ellie!

You narrate your world. Nearly everything is a discussion. Often a debate.
You love princesses, fairies, your family, "wet" (fresh) strawberries, "dried" (dehydrated) strawberries, macaroni and cheese, painting, books (especially princess themed), swimming, ballet class and fancy dresses. When asked who you wanted to invite to your birthday party, you rattled off the names of three girls in your class at school and then added "one boy." Leo.

You have a stunning memory. Don't promise anything to Ellie (strawberry ice cream after dinner, for example) unless you plan on keeping that bargain. You are kind, stubborn, affectionate and love a good backrub, especially before bed.

This has been a pretty big year for you Ellie. You learned to write your name, read many of your letters and numbers and oh yeah, you became a big sister. Times two.

I can't wait to see what other adventures Four brings for you, my dear Ellie-Belle.

Flashback Friday

2011-07-08T05:15:00.000-07:00

The babies are just over a month old. It's hard to believe how much has happened in a month, how much life has changed. Yes, yes, cue the cliches.

May 24, 2011. Seven days pre-baby. Look at those arm veins. Yeesh, the swelling! My whole right side went puff.

On June 1, I went to a routine OB appointment. My blood pressure was a little high, but it was also about 200 degrees outside and the humidity was about 110 percent. I had a high a risk appointment scheduled for the the afternoon so my OB told me to have my pressure rechecked then.

I had about two hours to kill before my next doctor's appointment. So I did what any hugely pregnant woman would do on a hot summer day. I went to Target. I limped around the aisles, my sciatica screaming. I tried my best to relish my fleeting days of freedom (both Leo and Ellie were in school). I took myself out to lunch at Baja Fresh (doesn't everyone want to visit the salsa bar right before delivery?). But little did I know this would be my last supper.

Three hours later at my high risk appointment, my blood pressure was 190 over something equally bad. After the pressure check, the nurse told me to go back to the waiting room and the doctor would see me in a few minutes. Two minutes later that same nurse leaned over and quietly asked me when I had last eaten. That's when I knew. It was Babies Day.

An hour later, this was me. Waiting for Erin to get to the hospital. Man it was hot. Can you tell? That little room they had me in was a furnace. Or maybe I was the furnace, gestating two humans on a 90+ day. It was all so surreal. Even when you are due to give birth any day I don't think you wake up in the morning believing you will actually, you know, give birth. Sidenote: I can't believe I am posting this picture. I guess it's for posterity or something, but I think I can kiss any political career goodbye.

I made Erin take this one on the way to the delivery room.

And just like that:

Harry aka Hair Bear.

Little Lucy aka Peanut

Well, it wasn't quite "just like that." But it didn't take long.

I just love this picture. Look how happy Erin looks. Even her eyes are smiling. Babies! Two of them!

How?

2011-07-06T07:00:00.000-07:00

How do moms of newborns have time to blog? Am I missing something?

Harry is crying. I need to go pick him up.

Just wanted to say hi.

Hi.

Speaking of Harry, he didn't get the memo. That he's a twin. Not an only child. Oh he's fine, as long as he's on your chest or nursing. Kind of hard to do this constantly, when there are three others.

The constant crying/needs/demands of twins, I admit, makes me feel like a crummy mom. As a mother, your instinct is to comfort. With two, sometimes you can't. You only have so many hands.

But when he looks up at you with those little old man/old soul eyes, you have to smile. Everything is going to be fine.

I know that I need to lower my standards. "Fold Laundry" needs to be all that I accomplish. Also keeping all four children alive and fed and safe is a big one. If that is the case at the end of the day I should feel good, right?

Lowering my standards would make my life so much easier. It's hard for me though. I'm a doer. And a worrier. Are the kids having fun? Are they bored? Do they resent the babies? Are the babies crying too much? Eating enough? Stimulated? (Are one-month olds supposed to be stimulated? I'm awful about tummy time, that much I know). Gah. I know, SHUT UP. Enjoy this time.

In other news, we have a new soundtrack around here.

The big kids love "Harry's Song." And of course, Ellie is a fan of Lucy's (it is, after all, her favorite band).

The other night we had a little impromptu dance party during dinner with our new songs and our new babies and things felt, for a moment, kind of normal.

Of Unfinished To-Do Lists and First Outing With Four (Did Someone Say FOUR Kids?)

2011-06-29T03:45:00.001-07:00

Here's a perfect analogy for you. I've been driving a library book around in my car for about three and a half weeks. The babies are almost a month old. Did I mention this library book is about a month overdue? Coincidence? I think not. Yes, it's going to be the world's most expensive children's book.

Sigh.

That pricey little library book, the one that was left behind (under Leo's bed) is perfect proof of my slide toward discombobulation. When I was pregnant and exhausted and beyond irritable, yet still reasonably productive, I went on a house tear, gathering up impending due library books and cleaning out each room of its "extras." I did all the things I figured I wouldn't have time to do once the babies came. I gave away bags and bags of items to a local charity. It was back when I could make a "to do" list and expect to actually conquer a majority of it. There is very little chance I would allow a library book to go overdue (I'm one of those annoying people who likes to play by the "rules" and even more importantly, hates paying a fine of any sort).

Now? All bets are off. I'm lucky if I shower and have food in the house. Yesterday when Ellie came home from school I noticed she had a tinge of pink on her shoulders. Have I been putting sunscreen on her before she leaves in the morning on school days? Nope. I've been nursing. And nursing. Or trying to keep someone from crying, while the other one, well, cries.

Parenting fail.

Not complaining at all here, these are the Crazy, Hazy (not lazy) Newborn days (times two!). I've been here before (without the times two part) so I know how they go. But having two older kids too? Definitely raises the stakes. I'm feeling bad about the lack of sunscreen (and am going to make a point of applying it before kids leave, which I always did back in the easy breezy days of two kiddos).

And once again I say: It's a Good Thing They're Cute.

Also: In spite of how this photo looks, Harry is not a full head taller than Lucy. By the way, the title for the above photo is "Guess Who Likes to Wake Up Right When You Put Him Down To Sleep In The Crib Because He Prefers To Sleep Right On Your Boob."

In other news, I went to the store (Trader Joe's) with all four kids this week for the first time. No, no, silly, I had help. Sheesh! My step mom is visiting from Oregon and served as kid wrangler, food-in-the-cart arranger and general mayhem controller. We make quite a spectacle these days: There's Leo greeting each and every shopper from his perch in the cart ("Hi! Hi! My Mommy had babies! Two babies! Harry and Lucy!"), there's Ellie, coasting alongside with her little cart, and then the babies, in their absurdly long yet practical stroller. There's me, pale faced, frizzy haired and beady eyed from lack of sleep, speaking in a quiet monotone, in an attempt to not lose my cool.

The little trip went better than I expected, actually. Let's see, the store manager gave me congratulatory flowers (we are longtime, frequent customers and she somehow missed the whole pregnancy/news that we were having twins so imagine her shock and amazement to see Leo's two babies). I was also called "Superwoman" by a fellow shopper, somewhere between the chicken breasts and the bacon. Superwoman? Hardly. More like Crazy Woman. Because based on that little outing with all four? Won't be doing that again (alone) for a long time.

In Tiny Personality News, we're getting more info on our guy Harry. I've dubbed him Harry the Hot Mess because poor guy is (still) just a spit-up machine. He literally spits up on the clean outfit you are changing him into (from the doused old outfit). This morning he managed to turn his little head and coat his ear with spit up (while laying on the changing table). He's also a little sweetie who (still) adores a warm bod.

Lucy is opening her eyes and looking around more and more (they both are). She's not quite as mellow as we had pegged her for. But we're still planning on keeping her.

News From the Front

2011-06-24T05:19:00.000-07:00

Oh, hello.

So it turns out this twin thing?

Kinda hard.

It feels like someone is ALWAYS crying. I go to soothe one, and the other one starts. The one I'm holding stops and I find myself thinking, why is there still crying? Oh, because there's ANOTHER BABY!

Sorry other baby.

I wonder what this does to them? I feel bad. I'm doing the best I can. Honest! Is this just de rigeur for twins? I only have so many arms.

In other news, Leo graduated first grade.

Here he is on the last day of school. He LOVED taking the bus home. For most of his young life he's been a daycare guy, taking the bus to aftercare while I'm at work. In fact, he's NEVER taken the bus home. His first words after departing from the bus: "Leo takes the bus home!" He has a few days off before starting summer school on Tuesday.

Ellie in turn, is loving her new part-time pre-school status. She also enjoys waiting for Leo's bus in the afternoons.

The big kids continue to be very affectionate with the babies. Which is nice. But the biggest hurdle is getting them to leave the babies alone when they are sleeping (the whole big kids with the babies is a whole post in itself and I promise it's forthcoming). Seriously, this bothering the sleeping babies is mind numbing. They always seem to want to pay the babies the most attention when they are out cold. Sigh.

It is so fitting that there is laundry in this picture. Laundry is my fifth baby, I swear.
OK, that's the best I can do right now. Leo is beating up the dog. Ellie is having a juice box crisis. Back soon.

In the meantime I give you

and

AKA Chins.

Getting to Know You and Can You Feel the Love?

2011-06-18T06:17:00.000-07:00

Tiny personalities are emerging.

Of course it's a little early to make sweeping generalizations but so far?

Harry:
Is definitely the more challenging baby (sorry buddy). He loves eating (he easily nurses three times as much as Lucy does), is a snuggle bug (adores laying on a warm chest or a good good shoulder or being carried around in the crook of your arm). Has a serious, almost "old soul" look about him. So far my favorite description has likened him to a Borscht belt comedian, circa 1950 (thank you for that, Renee). He's also a fan of creating lots and lots of laundry for his Mommy, though the spit-up situation has gotten much better. But when he's hungry? He has no shame and it's as if he's never eaten. He will gladly try to nurse your shoulder or your neck. Or Lucy's head.

Lucy:
If Lucy had an anthem it would be Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds." She is the original Chill Baby. If Lucy was your first baby? You'd say, what's the fuss? This baby thing is No Big Deal and you'd have a dozen more. She eats, she looks around the room, she makes adorable little faces with her big E.T. eyes, she forms a little "O" with her delicate little mouth, and then you put her in her bouncy chair and she falls back asleep. For hours. In her sleep she slowly and gracefully kicks one of her dainty little legs in the air as if in her dreams, she's riding a miniature, newborn bike.

Leo and Ellie continue to be model older siblings. The biggest issue so far is that they seem to LOVE THE BABIES TOO MUCH.

I know. I really need to be quiet, right?

Ellie:
Accepted that I can't spend three hours putting her to bed every night. She's embraced the new routine. She bolts to get me a diaper when she sees me rounding the corner to the changing table--"Mommy, do you need me to get a diaper?"
She loves to cover the babies with blankets and help rock the bouncy chairs (which she learned to do via Grandma Jerry--you do it with two fingers). Last night, when Erin went to lie down with Leo and Ellie waited patiently in her room for her turn at books with Mama, Ellie heard crying coming from our bedroom where I was alone with the babies, trying to organize a tandem nursing session. She opened the door and quietly asked, "Mommy are you doing OK with the babies? Are you having fun?"

Leo:
Has embraced the crying. He no longer leaves the room when the screeching duo chorus begins. He just looks at the babies with concern and reminds me "Babies crying! Babies eat, Mommy!" (By the way, did you know that Babies "eat boobs?") (Leo said it, not me.) He's also a big fan of kissing and hugging and loving on the babies, sometimes a little too much (again, I know, I need to be quiet since so far neither big kid has voiced one single frustration about the babies). The worst thing you can say about Leo and the babies? He feels compelled to kiss their hands and face, precisely where I ask him not to kiss.

Such problems.

Two Weeks, One Day

2011-06-16T06:40:00.000-07:00

Look! Something other than babies!

Ellie got a haircut. Nice and clean and short and sassy for the summer.

As we were leaving the mall where the hair salon is, Ellie insisted I take a picture of her in front of this "pink girl."
********************************************************************************************************************************
I'm feeling pretty good. I get a little "down" around 5 p.m. many days, as the wall of exhaustion hits me (yes, yes, I'm horrible about the whole "sleep when the baby sleeps" thing. I need to nap more). I dread a little the coming long night and the waking every two hours. Last night the babies took an unprecedented one and a half hour nap between 9 and 10:30 p.m. I should have slept too but instead I did pointless stuff like put away laundry and play on the computer. I was so tired that I really accomplished nothing though, didn't even successfully order diapers (too overwhelmed).

The babies are two weeks and one day old today. Little Lucy's umbilical cord is hanging on by a thread (my babies are already growing up--sniff!). I can already feel time fleeting by. I want to keep them squishy little newborns, even though I am beyond tired.

I had my two week OB check-up today. It was very slam, bam, thank you ma'am. The nurses oohed and ahed over the babies and I lost fifty pounds (yikes!) but other than that, it was pretty uneventful. It's weird to think how much time I spent going to appointments while pregnant with these babies and that's all over now. The pregnancy flew by. So much happened in the last nine months. We found it was twins in November, the weekend after Halloween. So there was fall and the incredibly snowy winter and the months and months (and months) of morning/ALL DAY sickness. There was a long winter break home with the kids, so nauseous it was all I could do to entertain Leo and Ellie, but I was so determined to give them a "fun vacation" since this would be our last winter break without babies, as a family of four.

And all along these two little people were with us, with me.

And now they are here. And it's like we've always known them, even though we've only just met.

Reveling in the Butteryness: Sleep, Eat, Wash, Repeat

2011-06-13T04:31:00.000-07:00

I know it's ironic that I keep posting all these "sleep pictures."

Goodness knows Erin and I are not getting much.

I just can't resist.

No matter how crabby and sleep deprived I feel in the morning (up every two hours thankyouverymuchHarryeatsalot), it's impossible not to feel incredibly blessed when I wake to the sight of this:

and this:

Leo has a brother. Ellie has a sister. A large part of me still can't believe it. When will it sink in?

Here are some odds and ends, in place of an actual, well-thought out post.

1. The sciatica is still killing me. I am hobbling around like an old woman and it stinks. I thought delivery would be the golden ticket and it would go away but apparently not. I go back to the chiropractor today and I am expecting a miracle. A miracle! Because this pain is making everything that much harder.

2. Lucy is a wonderful sleeper. Harry is---apparently starving ALL THE TIME, poor guy. He also seems to have some pretty bad spit-up/gastro issues. Ellie was the same way. It seems to take him a full hour after he eats to stop spitting up and to settle down which means that yes, by the time he's settled down and "comfortable,' it's, ta-da! Time to eat again. Oh but he's a cuddler, yes he is. This little man could absolutely live in the crook of your neck and be quite happy with life.

3. I want to be clear from my last post that I am totally and completely appreciating the newbornness, even if I go on (and on) about the lack of sleep on my part. Yes it's hard and exhausting but these are our last babies (sniff!) and I am reveling in the smell of newborn heads and necks and the buttery, impossibly soft limbs, the post-nursing milk comas and the hilarious little faces and sounds that emanate from these tiny people. Yes, the sleep deprivation is hell but it's short-lived and I know that someday they will have a bedtime and I can go back to my thrilling nightly rituals of independently watching television and eating ice cream and folding laundry and doing whatever the heck I want. For now, I'm a slave to the newborns and even if I grouse a bit, I love it. That's the beauty of third time parenting of newborns: I know it's not forever and it will never happen again.

Lastly, lest anyone think we've lost our sense of humor around here, yesterday I looked over and spotted this:

Don't worry. Lucy was safe and sound in Grandma Jerry's arms.

Like Riding A Bike, But Not Really

2011-06-11T07:43:00.000-07:00

There were some tears last night. I was away from the babies for the first time (no, that's not why I was crying). I went to the chiropractor to address the sciatica that cropped up about three days before the babies were born and has regrettably not gone away.

About the tears: I think it's beginning to hit me, in little flashes, what has happened. How much things have changed. I won't lie. I'm slightly terrified and overwhelmed. Don't get me wrong, I'm also feeling incredibly blessed, but, it's a lot. Four kids. TWO babies. I worry. I worry about my relationship with Leo and Ellie. I find myself missing them. I'm spending a lot of time parked on a love seat in the living room nursing the babies and it's as if I'm watching my "old," "simple" ife play out in front of me. Erin is doing pretty much everything for the big kids right now while I, well, I'm essentially Bessie the Milk Cow.

It's the little things that set me off. For example, as much as I groaned so many times about the drawn out Ellie bedtime routine, I'm now nostalgic for it. The independence to finish a task without the faint cry of a little lemur (Lucy) or the quick, demanding shrieks of the decidedly more assertive Harry, feels far, far away. I forgot what it's like to have A newborn let alone two. It's like riding a bike, it's all coming back to me (or becoming familiar to me), but that doesn't make it any less shocking.

And as if on cue, Lucy just cried as I typed this. I'm not kidding.

I know that I over think things. The big kids seem totally fine. They're thriving, truly. Ellie dotes on both babies, loves to cover them with blankets in their little bouncy chairs. She actually asks if she can get me a diaper. Her new favorite phrase is "can you do me a favor?" since my little helper is hearing this quite a bit from me. I'm trying to be careful not to abuse her help--the last thing I want is resentment. But for as long as she offers to help? I will take it.

Leo seems to be growing accustomed to the crying, which there is definitely more of when there are two. He continues to hold his hands over his ears but he's not trying to leave the room anymore. He's mastered the art of eating grapes with his right hand while his left hand covers an ear.

What have we done? I sobbed, last night, driving home from the chiropractor. "Total Eclipse of the Heart" boomed on the radio and I turned it up, just for melodramatic measure. In that thought, there wasn't one stitch of regret that we now have two babies, that we went for #3 and got a bonus baby. Everything Happens For a Reason. We have four beautiful children. A big family, a new, different, exciting, hard, exhausting and full life.

My heart is full, my brain is exhausted, my spirits fluctuate, my patience is tried countless times over the day.

This is the hardest thing I've ever done, but also? The most amazing.

Home: Days Blend To Night

2011-06-09T17:12:00.001-07:00

I want to write here so badly.

There is SO much to say.

So in spite of how it looks here?

Harry and Lucy aren't sleeping much (AT NIGHT ANYWAY). Sorry, not screaming. Not screaming at all.

So, yes, we're all a little fried. In love and in bliss and overcome with emotion several times a day (in a good way). But seriously sleep deprived. Feeling more than a little loopy.

It all still feels a little surreal, I think. People kept asking me if I was ready for the babies and I had no problem saying whole heartedly "NO!" I knew that as much as I could think about how it would feel for them to be here, for us to have four kids, I just wouldn't know how it would be until they came.

It's--a little crazy. Finishing any task (other than nursing) is next to impossible. Forgive the cliche, but we"re acclimating to the new normal.

And of course, we're taking funny pictures of the babies.

Super Harry!

These are days to remember.

More soon. Promise.

Harry Allen & Lucy Grace

2011-06-03T09:01:00.000-07:00

Leo got his wish.

Babies came out!

Harry Allen, aka "Baby A," born June 1, 2011 at 8:24 p.m., 7 pounds, 11 ounces, 19 inches long.

Lucy Grace, aka "Baby B," born at 8:25 p.m. 6 pounds, 13 ounces, 18.5 inches long.

Leo met his baby brother.

Ellie got to hold "the girl one."

We are overwhelmed and in love.

Slow Stormy Mornings and Dear Babies, Leo Loves You Already, But Please Get Off My Left Back Side

2011-05-31T07:36:00.000-07:00

It was dark as twilight at dawn, yesterday morning. I woke to a black, foreboding sky and the glare of the street lamp outside. Next to me was a little tangle of legs and arms (most nights, Leo and Ellie end up in our bed at some point). Minutes later, the soundtrack was the crash of thunder and what sounded like a lightening strike across the street (it wasn't, but it was darn close).

One of the sweetest things about being home with the kids now is the slow, early mornings. For the next few weeks, I’m still getting them off to school but knowing I don’t have to get dressed and into the city just lessens the tension. Of course, these mornings sometimes dawn a bit earlier than I might like.

And of course, there was no school yesterday, so it was a particularly "slow" morning. Yesterday Leo was up around 6 a.m., his usual time. I made coffee and he read and played Legos and drew for a while before he finally asked for TV. An hour or so later Ellie called to me from upstairs. There were tears.

“I want you to come lie down with me Mommy! In my bed!”

I told her I was downstairs, that Leo was watching “Jake and the Never Land Pirates” (the new fave around here) and why didn’t she come join us?

She was not budging. There were more tears. And more demands for me to join her in "her bed." And so, because I could, because there were no lunches to be packed or clothes to be picked out and negotiated onto cranky bodies, I went upstairs and joined Ellie in her bed, in her dark, little room. She moved close to me, and we were shoulder to shoulder and she breathed a deep, satisfied sigh.

A few minutes later, Leo emerged from downstairs and burst into Ellie's room (as he is apt to do, he's big on grand entrances), holding an envelope. Leo is “into” writing letters these days. He takes the little envelopes from my desk.

(Sample of a recent letter to Grandpa: “Dear Grandpa, Thank you” (you should be getting that gem any day, Grandpa).

He scooted close to me and began kissing my stomach and saying “Hi Babies.”
Then he handed me this:

Inside the envelope (pictured at the top), he wanted to put the drawing, which in case, there is any question, is supposed to be this guy:

And for good measure, he even generously threw in a real, beloved “Wheezy” figure. He wanted to mail this all to the babies.

“But Leo, you know the babies won’t give you that back,” Ellie pointed out, to a concerned looking Leo. “Because babies can’t share.” She nodded, for added emphasis.

Leo, furrow browed, was concerned about this Babies Can't Share News.

“It’s OK buddy, the babies will give you Wheezy back,” I said.

A wave of relief washed over Leo’s little face and he disappeared downstairs, for stamps, no doubt.

***

In other news, Hello summer! It was a hot Memorial Day weekend around here. There was plenty of this.

This one is titled "Leo, I Have A Idea.!" Ellie is constantly coming up with schemes and games and ideas and has no problem telling Leo exactly what to do to execute The Plan. Here they are sliding the Toy Story Guys down the slide into the sprinkler.

And this was where I tried to stay, as much as possible (though with all the snack fetching and hose wrangling and pool re-filling it wasn’t quite as relaxing as it looks).

That red thing? That’s not an inner tube or a beach ball. No, that’s just TWO PEOPLE. Add to everything the the fact that last night, one of the little bodies inside me seems to have shifted or something and the result is a permanent cramp/knot in my lower left, ahem, back-side. Not good and Very Inconvenient. Now it’s hard just going up and down stairs and feels sort of like I’m scaling a mountain.

It feels like there’s a lot more to do but there really isn’t, so I guess I shouldn’t worry about this new, hopefully temporary limitation. I just despise feeling incapacitated in any way (who doesn’t?). After all, I’m the crazy lady shlepping laundry baskets up and down the basement steps or loading cases of seltzer into the back of my mini van at Costco. Or I at least want the option to be able to do this.

But you know what? We are almost there. Which is a good thing, since at this point, my maternity shirts need maternity shirts.

11

2011-05-29T00:00:00.000-07:00

Eleven years ago today.

Every year, she gets farther and farther away. Sometimes it even feels like another lifetime.

I hate that.

I miss you every day Mom. I love you.

"Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never ends," 1 Corinthians 13

Wednesday This and That

2011-05-25T10:01:00.000-07:00

The weather is getting warmer. Summer feels close. Some days are incredibly busy (well, as busy as I can possibly be in the shape I'm in right now). There are many house projects as you can imagine, trying to ready our decidedly not huge (though big enough thank you very much) house for two more people. Good thing those people start out small. Of course Erin is doing the brunt of the work (painting, moving furniture, visiting her friends at Home Depot). I keep getting yelled at for doing things like, oh, you know, washing the baseboards. But don't worry, I'm also doing plenty of laying around. I get little (and I do mean little) burst of energy and I just can't help but do something. And so I do it. And then I'm out of breath and contractiony and so I check the DVR and see if there is anything left to watch (there usually isn't).

Speaking of TV, have you seen this ad?

Watching a fair amount of daytime TV lately I've seen it a lot as it's on serious rotation. I cry every dang time. I know, I know, I'm hormonal. And I'm totally doing cloth diapers so this is in no way some kind of endorsement but still, this ad gets me (don't miss the baby with Down syndrome, of course). I know, I know, I am SUCH a sap right now. I know this. That's half the battle, right?

When I'm not crying hormonal tears, I'm focusing on the big kids and getting their rooms in shape. Monday I went to Ikea and got a couple of these (one for Leo, one for Ellie) which I just LOVE. When Ellie first saw it in her room (Erin put it together when she was at school) she called us upstairs--"Mommy! Come see what's in my room!" as if we didn't know it was there.

They are just so clean and cute and as my friend Lisa put it, an OCDers dream. By the way, I highly recommend going to Ikea largely pregnant. I didn't have to lift a thing! A nice gentleman put two bookshelves in my cart and another nice man in the loading area put the shelves in the van (his words: "I didn't want to find out whether you were having a boy or a girl right here in the parking lot.").

Yesterday we broke out the swimming pools (plastic baby pools). This year we wised up and bought two and of course, Leo and Ellie still had to be in the same pool. Those two, I swear. Pictures of that to come. In the meantime:

I don't know what Leo was mad about here. It seems like someone is always complaining about something, someone is always doing something to annoy someone else. But at the same time, Leo and Ellie get along really well, if that makes sense. (Photo credit for these pics is my friend Dorrine, who was recently here visiting from California).
In other news, yes, it's popsicle season again.

This picture. That belly. Holy cow. That's all I have to say.

Ellie must change her clothes twelve times a day. This was Sunday. I think this was outfit #11.

Leo and two of his favorite things. A ball and his dog.

Ears: Cause It’s Not All Babies and Complaining Around Here. Honest.

2011-05-23T20:04:00.000-07:00

Lest anyone get truly fed up with me and my pregnancy whining, I will say that there are other things going on here aside from Babies.

Since once the babies (oops, I mentioned them) are born I’ll never do anything normal again/leave the house (I kid, I kid, ahem), the last two months have been Operation Take Leo To See All His Specialists. Thankfully, that list has dwindled over the years and we’re down to just the opthamologist and ENT. Last week we paid a much overdue visit to the ENT and it was, as expected, Not Fun (you may recall that Leo had his adenoids out in December 2009 and is on I think his fourth set of tubes). The ENT is also, without a doubt, Leo's least favorite doctor.

So, for the record, Leo is officially too big and strong to hold down for an exam (my being twelve months pregnant does add to the challenge of restraining him, I’m sure).

No, it was definitely not the greatest appointment. The doctor seemed a little impatient with Leo’s uneasiness (make that a polite word for absolute terror). I know he’s busy but, I don’t know, the doctor just could have been a little more, encouraging? Warmer? It probably wouldn’t have made a difference but I guess I always leave those sort of appointments wondering what I could have done differently to make it better. I tried to hold Leo down in my usual pose of hold his trunk arms down and pin his legs between mine but he was having nothing of it. And he is strong. The doctor made a one-quarter second attempt to look in Leo’s ears before pronouncing it “impossible” and that Leo would “need to be sedated.”

This, after a thirty minute wait.

Not to mention, sedated? Wait just a minute, I protested. Sedated? Really?

I’d be lying if I said this didn’t more than irritate me. I mean, I get that Leo can be an absolute beast at the doctor’s, when he’s, you know, terrified. But still. It just seemed so extreme. I realize the doctor was thinking of Leo’s safety (tiny instruments in the ears of a flailing body = not good) as well as mine (kicked in stomach right now = not good). But, still. I guess I’m just not rushing to sedate my kid for convenience sake, you know?

I convinced Dr. Impatient to get some more reinforcements in, after he mumbled something about me in my “condition” and not wanting anything to happen to me. Two nurses emerged and Leo kicked one of the exam tools across the room. Awesome. Luckily, the doctor was able to get a long enough look that time to see that one of Leo’s tubes was out, so at least we knew something. There could be an actual reason for sedation, other than just convenience.

More discussion. Sedation would also allow for a sedated ABR (hearing test), in addition to a full, non-traumatic exam. The sedated ABR actually really excites me since it’s been, oh, since birth that Leo has had an actual hearing exam (he’s been either too afraid or uncooperative all the other times). His current speech therapist has been on me about getting Leo tested, not because she’s specifically concerned with hearing loss, but it’s always a possibility. I guess.

So, sedated ABR and possible tube replacement surgery is slated for mid-June.

And, as is tradition for all of Leo’s ENT appointments, a few years were shaved off my life.

35 Weeks and Some Tears

2011-05-20T18:28:00.000-07:00

I had my first real emotional (i.e. pregnancy/hormonal) meltdown yesterday, which, considering I hit 35 weeks today, is pretty good.

Ellie cried when I left her at school which rarely does anymore. That always puts me in a state and leaves me feeling guilty. It doesn't help that her well-meaning teacher blames everything on the fact that I'm pregnant.

And then, of course, there were some very First World problems, namely, the fact that Costco doesn’t open until 10 a.m. during the week here. I mean, really? I’d bet that fifty percent of their clientele has been awake since at least 7 a.m. I could have been shopped and home by 10 a.m. Also, I bought bananas, and I have no idea where they ended up--I just know they did not make it home with me.

But it was nothing a good cry and a sweet Origins goodie bag from Erin couldn’t fix. The best part was a scented rice-filled pillow that you microwave and put on your shoulders. It was absolutely made for my little eucalyptus fetish.

My right hand is now numb 100 percent of the time. The swelling is pretty bad. I’ve decided I am ready to not be pregnant but am not ready for the babies yet. Not sure how that’s going to work out.

But. I’m in no hurry. I almost want to stop time right now. I get teary and my chest feels tight when I think of the enormity of what’s about to happen, how much things are going to change. I want to hold on to this simple time. I’ll never be pregnant again. I’ll never only have two children. The swelling, the itching, the tears. This is the easy part.

That Much Sweeter

2011-05-17T07:59:00.000-07:00

The Breast Imaging Center at my local hospital hands out roses to all the patients. A nice touch. This rose bloomed more beautiful and longer than any rose I've received in a long time.

I spent last Thursday morning at a place no woman wants to be. The breast imaging center at our local hospital. The same hospital where I’m due to give birth to two babies in roughly five weeks.

A few months ago I found a small lump in my armpit. My gene pool is lousy with breast cancer so I immediately feared the worst. I showed it to my OB (I was fairly early in the pregnancy at the time) and she felt the lump, but told me it was probably just extra breast tissue due to hormones (did you know breast tissue extends into the arm pit? I didn’t) and blah blah blah.

Pfew.

But then a few weeks ago I noticed the lump again. And this time it was bigger. A lot bigger. My doctor felt it again at my last check-up and immediately said she wanted me to get an ultrasound, which of course, scared the hell out of me. How could this be happening? For the past seven months I’ve been getting “fun” ultrasounds. Ones that involve heart beats and little hands and feet and the discovery of hair on tiny 32 week-old heads. An armpit lump ultrasound? Decidedly not fun.

Of course, because I was so worried, there was a two hour wait at my appointment. For a five minute procedure. When I was finally called in by the cheery tech, I studied her face as she read the screen. I swear that her expression immediately went from buoyant to tragic. As she gazed at the little gray and white blob on the screen (which she pronounced as “kidney shaped”) she appeared serious, concerned. It was bad. I could just tell. She told me she’d show the scans to the doctor and he’d either come in to discuss it with me and look further, or perhaps just relay results to her. I reminded myself not to be worried if the doctor came in. It had happened when I had a mammogram a year ago and that had turned out fine.

I flipped through a wrinkled, two-year-old copy of Life & Style magazine and three minutes later, there was the doctor. He offered his hand to shake, dimmed the lights, and then immediately came the questions. How long had I had the lump? When did I first notice it? Had it gotten a lot bigger recently?

My heart began to pound. My body felt heavy. The room felt like it was getting darker, closing in around me. This could not be happening. The Doctor slid the ultrasound wand across my armpit a few more times and peered at the fuzzy screen, at my infamous kidney shaped blob. All the Good Things, all the Things To Look Forward To—the babies, the kids, Erin, seemed suddenly very far away.

And then:

“Well this looks totally normal. Benign.”

The proverbial weight lifted. But all I could think was, Why couldn’t the doctor have led with that? With normal and benign? He gave me a bunch of information about hormones and underlying infections and lymph nodes and keeping an “eye on things” but the only thing that mattered to me were the words “benign” and “normal.”

Melodrama aside, I’ll be honest. For twenty-four hours, my little life got quite a jolt. Sure, it was just a little armpit lump, but it could have been something more, something worse. As much as I tried to tell myself it would be OK, willed it to be OK, I knew. It wouldn’t necessarily be. After all, I’m a member of the Club. The Club of Bad Things. I know those things don’t just happen to other people. That as much as we can think positive and hope for the best, we’re all ultimately, just one cross town bus or extra chromsome or abnormal cell away from catastrophe. The question isn’t how could this happen to me, but rather, why shouldn’t it happen to me? To anyone? Stuff just happens. There is no explanation.

I remember after my mom died, I went through a phase where I wasn’t afraid to die. Maybe because I felt I would see her in the afterlife, so how could death be a bad thing? Although I would describe myself as faithful, my religious stance is murky. I don’t know if I’ll see her again. But what I do know is I want to be here now. There are two, almost four little people who need me. And oh, do I need them. Now is not the time to go anywhere. I know what it’s like to lose a parent. And more than that, and to make it about me, I don’t want to lose them. To lose out on raising them.

I didn’t tell anyone but Erin when I found the lump. But when the good news came, I called my dad. I told him about my fear being wrapped up in the kids, in losing them, in them losing me. We got on the subject of time and how once you have kids it seems to speed up. My dad, a practicing Buddhist talked about how difficult it is to grasp time, to appreciate the Now. We all seem to be inherently hard wired to move onto the next thing. He said what helps is to focus on the sensory experiences of life. The smells, the feels, the sounds.

And it’s funny, because the morning of the big Armpit Ultrasound, I sat with Ellie as she ate her cereal and strawberries and felt more present with her than I’ve felt with anyone, in a long time. It was an unseasonably warm day and she wore a little pink cap-sleeved top, exposing the length of her remarkably soft, chubby little arms. I couldn’t help it--I reached over and stroked her tiny arm and she looked at me as if she was about to protest, as if to say “Mommy why are you doing that?” (a common refrain), but instead she said nothing, and went on to take a sip of apple juice and another bite of cereal.

It was just a little moment. A little snapshot. But it was one that made this one, little, happy ending for now, that much sweeter.

Bedtime Chat With Leo

2011-05-15T04:18:00.000-07:00

Last night, after we finished books, Leo was getting situated in his bed. As he does any night that I put him to bed, he pulled up my shirt to say goodnight to the babies.

"Goodnight baby, goodnight baby."

The What to Name One of the Babies discussion is still in full force, so I ran two options by Leo. His ability to pronounce the names is something we are considering (it never occurred to me with Ellie although he can say her name just fine).

"How about [Insert Baby A's Prospective Name] or [Insert Baby A's Other Prospective Name]? I asked Leo.

He studied my face for a moment, then broke into a huge grin.

"Rudolph!" He announced, with absolute certainty.

Rudolph, as you might not be shocked to hear, is not one of the names in the running. Rather, Rudolph is the word/name that (blessedly) has replaced "Poopy Head" which, for a while there, Leo was calling anyone and anything, because it was sure to get a rise out of people (Ellie is absolutely lightening quick at tattling "Leo said a bad word!")

"Hmm, I don't know about Rudolph," I said. I repeated the names to Leo and he again chimed in with good old Rudolph.

"You're silly," I said, ruffling his thick sandy hair. Leo rested his head on his purple unicorn Pillow Pet (don't ask), and then shot up again, reached out and felt my stomach.

"When are the babies coming?" he asked.

"One more month, I answered.

"One more month?" Leo repeated, wearing the same frustration both children do when they are told that no, the babies are not coming today or tonight (at least, I hope not).

And then, another big grin from Leo: "One baby, two baby, Happy Mother's Day!"

Truer words have not been spoken, Leo.

Any Day Now

2011-05-13T12:08:00.000-07:00

It's begun. The comments. From strangers. Many, many strangers. Often. Nearly every other person, it seems.

"Any day now?" is the favorite question. I just smile and say "Yup!" Then there is the favorite blanket announcement: "You're ready!"

Even though I actually "officially" have Six. More. Weeks.

Today the very helpful woman at Trader Joe's told me that I haven't dropped yet, but that when I do, to go straight to the hospital.

Duly noted.

So if the questions are coming at this pace, now? I wonder what the next few weeks will bring. Or if I will be shamed into being housebound. How dare I submit this belly to the world.

Mother's Day: Tiger Beat Edition and Some Other Thoughts on the Day

2011-05-09T07:17:00.000-07:00

We were graced with the usual, adorable Mother's Day Gifts from the children this year.

I especially loved this card, from Leo.

"Thank you for reading." Ah, my boy.
I'm so grateful he didn't say something like "Thank you for letting me watch "Toy Story." That would have been a leetle embarrassing.

But this one? This one really got me. I mean, seriously? Who is this hunk? Clearly we're biased but, what a handsome dude! And where is my little first grader? He looks at least, what? Twelve, here. My first thought when I saw this photo was Tiger Beat Centerfold. (Does Tiger Beat even exist? This is when I show my age.) Oh look! It does! Relief.

***
I know that Mother's Day is fraught for many people. For so many years, it was for me. There were years and years that I pined and spent the holiday sad and nostalgic and just aching for my mom, so sad she couldn't be here. And so it's strange that now, I have none of that. Sure, this year was spent with me a bit cranky and hugely pregnant, but there wasn't a stitch of sadness in me for the fact that my mom wasn't here for me to celebrate. I didn't think I'd ever be able to say that. I admit, I feel a little guilty almost, for not being sad. But I do know that Mother's Day will always be a day that I think about all the others out there who are having a hard time. For those whose moms are no longer here, for those who can't celebrate with their moms, for whatever the reason, for those who ache to be moms. It's just a complicated day, just as complicated as most mother-child relationships are, I suppose.

Mom and me, circa 1976.

Fun Even Without the Mint Juleps

2011-05-08T17:41:00.000-07:00

It's finally spring. It was a gorgeous weekend. We are in that magical period on the east coast before the humidity sets in, when the days are long and warm and comfortable and clear. We spent nearly the whole time outside, which is just my kind of weekend. Erin worked on the yard. I kept her company and provided moral support but no heavy lifting. Honestly it's all I can do to walk across the room/yard/house without gasping for air. It feels like someone or someones are sitting on my chest. Oh wait! They are!

Ellie's BFF had a birthday party.

It was Kentucky Derby themed, replete with pony rides and for the grown ups (and non-pregnant people) mint juleps. Alas.

But seriously, is that not a great theme for a kid party?

I know I say this a lot, but if there's anything cuter than...in this case: little kids riding ponies, especially little girls in party dresses? I'm not sure what that is.

In other, less, cute news: I am so swollen. My hands are like tiny (well, not so tiny) Michelin Men. In the morning I cannot even make a fist with my right hand and it's all I can do to make the all important coffee. I admit I'm frustrated that my last month with two kids is being spent this uncomfortably. I'm frustrated I can't do more and that my mood is somewhat sour much of the time. But, it is what it is and I guess it's understandable, but that certainly doesn't make it any easier for anyone who has to be around me or, well, me.

Yesterday after the party we came home and I took the coldest Eucalyptus scented shower I could stand, to try and help the swelling. I then collapsed into a puddle in front of the Food Channel. Blessedly, these active weekends send the kids to sleep easily and relatively early, so there is some peace in the evenings, which is good, because that's when I'm the most swollen and the most itchy. Don't ask.

Oh and last but not least, Happy Mother's Day!

To Be Filed Under I Should be Blogging More With All This Time: Catch Up Edition

2011-05-05T09:32:00.000-07:00

I have a lot of time on my hands. Pretty soon there will be no time. I should be blogging more. I'm settling into this staying home thing. I'm making real dinners (nothing crazy, I promise) and homemade strawberry shortcake (a huge hit, at least, the whipped cream was). It's funny, the little things that decrease one's stress. It's such a relief to know that I can just leave dinner dishes in the sink and realize I can wash them, at my leisure, in the morning. Or in the afternoon! Or whenever!

As thrilling as all that domestic talk is, I guess I don't have all that much to say. I haven't been writing because, well, does anyone want to hear me whine about feeling exhausted, not sleeping, being suddenly very puffy and itchy? The good news is, I successfully got my rings off, with a little help from Erin, baker's spray and olive oil. I waited too long and it hurt and not to be dramatic but it would liken it to a teeny, tiny reminder of the fun of childbirth.

You may also be interested to know that you can watch "Thirtysomething" on Netflix's instantly streaming shows. I have grand plans for most days but have found that one errand in the morning (the grocery or the doctor) pretty much does me in. So, "Thirtysomething" on Netflix it is.

As long as I'm sitting on the couch, I feel great! Albeit, a little sleepy.

32 weeks, six days, today.

I had a doctor's appointment today. Baby B is sitting on Baby A's head, but I imagine they are pretty used to that kind of infringement. Do twins grow up to be more tolerant people, I wonder? In other news, they both have hair! And are estimated at 5.5 and 5.8 pounds. I'm told this is large for this point in the pregnancy, but I hope they have plenty of time to get bigger. I've never had a baby under eight pounds and anything smaller scares me. Oh, my doctor also told me today that I was "born to grow twins." So, maybe I have a new career direction?

In other big news, Ruby (our dog) got a haircut. Note the pink bows (yes we like to humiliate our dog). Please, however, ignore the recycling in the background. This photo was taken in the mudroom which Erin just painted. I am in love with the color, which is the same color we've decided to paint the babies' room. Hmm, do you think Leo loves his dog?

Ellie had her ballet recital last weekend. It was adorable as expected. Not that we're biased.

I was good! I only cried a little.

The other morning Leo woke up a little early before school, early enough to have time to draw. He's into houses right now. He drew the above and I was quite impressed to note that he'd included, without instruction or direction, his address. I have no idea if he just noticed this himself or if he's learning it at school. Either way, I'm proud. By the way, he's sticking his tongue out here, on purpose. Only because I told him not to.

Fairy Wings and French Toast, Anniversaries and New Chapters

2011-04-29T12:22:00.000-07:00

What, you don't wear fairy wings while eating breakfast? Well you are missing out!

This morning dawned early in our house (as usual). Erin had suggested we get up early to watch The Wedding (as if I need to link to it, cause you might not know which wedding I was referring to). My response was, if I'm up, I'll watch it. I'm all for the enormity of the event (and William and Kate happened to have picked a pretty special date in our family too, seeing as ten years ago today, Erin and I also exchanged vows, though ours were decidedly less publicized). I'm a romantic, but sleep is precious these days. Interrupting it = Danger. But wouldn't you know it, I was up. I mean, what are the odds? (Um, darn good, actually.)

We told Ellie a few days ago there was to be a wedding with a real princess (OK, duchess, whatever). She appeared mildly interested, at the idea. But this morning, at 6 a.m. when she stumbled in, squinty eyed and ruffled hair, it only took her about three minutes to demand a "kid show." This real princess business just wasn't cutting it.

In other today in history news, I won't be back to work for a while. It feels surreal. I am seriously switching gears and I'll admit it. I'm a little scared. Excited, but scared. But I know that it's time. The few days I've had off in the last few months, I've noticed a change in my energy level and mood, as well as my patience quota (which these days is key). And I'm not going to lie. Being able to take an afternoon nap if I need it is not going to hurt my cause. I went to the doctor yesterday and at 32 weeks, I'm measuring full-term. Whoa.

Also, I need to make sense of this:*

And no, it's not a screen shot from a new episode of "Baby Hoarders," it's the future nursery (and believe me, this is the forgiving, flattering, you don't look fat in this at all angle).

*Notice the baby doll in the bouncy chair on the left? That's Ellie's doing. She is absolutely LOVING all this new "real" baby paraphernalia.

Mystic

2011-04-28T07:28:00.000-07:00

I didn't take that many pictures. We were very busy.

At the aquarium.

Of course, they wouldn't pose together. Ellie is seen here giving her "I'm so shy" look (that's a new phrase she's been saying and it's about the biggest lie I've ever heard. This child is SO not shy.)

This guy was totally "talking" to us. It was pretty amazing. And I love how belugas look like they're smiling.

It's so weird to think that technically there are five people in this picture. And I look so swollen here there are practically five and a half people.

Time

2011-04-26T08:48:00.000-07:00

I think that I need to back away from the twins books.

Unless of course, I want to burst into tears or hyperventilate. But you know what’s funny? What’s getting me is not the idea of nursing two or not sleeping (because it won’t be that different from now, actually!), or changing twenty diapers a day. It’s how it’s going to affect the kids that are already here. The big kids. Leo and Ellie. My babies.

Everyone I’ve heard from with big families (really, who has four kids these days?) has nothing but good things to say. There’s always someone to play with! We were our own little gang! With four kids, someone is bound to like someone, right? And the opposite of course, but I won’t think about THAT right now.

Still, I can’t shake the anxiety that I’ll be spread too thin, that Leo and Ellie, who are so accustomed to the spotlight, will feel resentful and hurt, when they have to share. It is what it is, and I know all of this is normal. It would be weird if I wasn’t thinking about all of this. I guess reading about “older siblings” in a twins book last night (big mistake) just kind of did me in and made me want take to my bed with a glass of merlot (don’t worry, I didn’t). I remember feeling this way when I was pregnant with Ellie too. I would look at toddler Leo and my burgeoning belly and think What Have We Done?

Probably the one thing I'm not worried about is the love. Before Ellie, when it was just Leo, I worried and wondered, how can I love someone as much I love Leo, my first baby? Now I know better. The capacity for love? It's boundless, truly. I guess that's the saving grace (well, one of them) in this crazy life.

***

Switching gears: This weekend was a babymoon of sorts. We took what was likely one of our last trips as a family of four (gulp) up to our beloved Mystic. On the way, we also met up with old friends who bestowed on us a minivan full of twin hand-me-downs. After unloading the van Sunday night, the future nursery looks like Babies R’ Us after a hurricane. I have a lot of organizing to do but seriously, I can’t thank Amy and Elizabeth enough for their generosity.

The trip to Mystic was whirlwind.

More pictures to come, but I will say that we swam in the hotel pool (Ellie’s favorite, hands down). Actually, I’m not sure what she was more excited about, the pool or her new bikini, courtesy of Grandma Jerry. It’s replaced the ballerina dresses in terms of the amount it’s taken off and put back on, just BECAUSE.

We visited with everyone’s favorite, the baby beluga (not really a baby, but no matter). We even got this book from the aquarium gift shop. Ellie made me sing it to her before bed on Sunday night and I panted all the way through).

This is my last week of work for a while. I know. I am in state of shock. Life is about to change in ways large and small. This week is a week of “lasts.” The last time I will attend a staff meeting, eat a burrito in the company cafeteria (not sure which is more momentous), sign off on a proof.

I’m ready though. I’m feeling a little unsteady on my feet as I navigate the crowded, increasingly warm streets of Manhattan (today is flip flop weather though, thank goodness, and while we’re on the subject, I waited a leetle too long and now can’t get my rings off my sausage fingers. Oy.). The nightly commute home gets more and more challenging.

And there are two little people who need more of my undivided attention.*

*(And yes, that is a two-foot tall chocolate Easter bunny.)

Punk Rock Penguins, Palaces and Out of Breath (Still)

2011-04-19T09:04:00.000-07:00

Hello!

I hope no one out there is losing faith in me. I’m still here. We’re still here. So, the goings on, in no particular order:

Leo’s been busy exploring a new medium.

(That’s paper mache/feather/Elmer’s glue top baby penguin, for the uninitiated). This might be the best art project he’s ever done (sculpture-wise, anyway). Not that I’m biased, of course.

Erin wisely bought Ellie this, which Ellie immediately dubbed her “Palace.”

I don't think "she loves it" begins to cover her feelings for it. This photo doesn’t really do it justice but, she does look quite pleased with herself, I think you’ll agree. Kids are really hard sometimes, but also? Incredibly easy to please.

It doesn’t always lead to this, but I will say that the closer she gets to turning four, the more, dare I say reasonable (afraid to even write this down, trust me!) she becomes.

And it couldn’t have happened sooner, because believe me when I say by 8:45 p.m., I am just DONE. Also, I will never tire of photographing my children when they're sleeping. I don't know why, there's just something about it.

Don't get me wrong. She's still a challenging one. Nearly everything is a Discussion. Her latest thing is to tell me that I've "hurt her feelings." This is commonly said when I do something like, oh I don't know, deny her M&Ms.

One of the things I love about living with little ones is the little “scenes” I find, around the house.

Like this one.

We seem to have FINALLY turned the corner on Leo's insistence on calling everyone "Poopyhead." Yeah, that was charming. He's suddenly calling us all "Rudolph" now. Which, who knows? But you know what? I'll take it.

In babies news, we’ve moved just past the thirty week mark, in which something definitely clicked. I went from “Pregnant? who's pregnant?, this aint no thing” to OMG there is a big difference between having one and two in there. I suddenly feel like I’m 90 years old and out of breath just walking across the room. Don’t even talk to me about walking up stairs. The other day I had to go to an unfamiliar store in the mall and I actually called ahead to find out where to park (because inevitably, don’t we always park at the opposite end of the mall?). But, really? I mean, it was kind of embarrassing.

On Sunday I was hanging curtains and the room started to spin and everything in my line of sight got very faint and well, let's just say I took to the couch for as much of the day as I could, after that little episode. Onlookers are divided into two camps. There are those who say: Twins? But you're tiny! I can't believe there are two babies in there! [uh, no kidding, me either, still!] Strangely enough, others are starting to give me that "You're Due Any Day Look." Sometimes I just nod and shrug, sometimes I say, well, actually, not until June. Just to see the look of horror in their deer-in-headlight/should I be boiling water? eyes.

As the belly gets bigger, Leo becomes more and more focused on it. Several times a day he throws his arms around the ever expanding (and impossible to ignore) belly and says “I love you babies.”

Leo, in one of his favorite perches, alongside The Belly. Stretch marks? What stretch marks?
And yes, it melts me every time, even when he tries to stick his finger in my (basically now non-existent) belly button.

I have two more weeks of work and I am quietly freaking out. I’m excited to be home, but also, slightly terrified. No matter how many times I do this, I seem to forget that pregnancy moves from glacial (don’t worry! We have tons of time!) to, well, babies!