January Moments

Snow Day: Still life with outerware.

Let's face it. There's not much that's nice about January.

I forget how much I do not enjoy this time of year. The cold, the unpredictability of snow storms and potential snow days (which I have to admit, I don't dread as much as a I used to, both because I don't have to stress about attempting a commute into the city, coupled with the fact that the children are much better about amusing themselves on a day stuck at home). At least that's nice (trying to find a positive spin, can you tell?).


Snow days: Not what they used to be! (That's a snowman with his scooter and basketball, by the way--because, of course).

Nope, this is definitely not the easiest time of the year.  The holidays are over. Spring is a looooong ways away. It's cold. Did I mention it's cold?


This picture was taken back when we could see our driveway. Now? Not so much. Snow, snow and more snow.


We are doing our best to make lemonade out of the snow. Or, in my case, virgin bloody marys (see my glass, above). It was early Sunday morning and I was dreaming about a kid-free, bloody-mary-and-The-New-York-Times-Long-Brunch. Instead, we did a Valentine craft.


I'm going to the library as often as possible. The twins love when I bring home grocery bags of books, devouring them immediately. I usually just take Leo and Ellie with me to the actual library--when I pulled into the parking lot last time they both cheered, so I guess I must be doing something right.

Before the snow and deep freeze pummeled us, the Oregon Grandparents were here for their semiannual winter visit.



We took our traditional trip to our local zoo on New Year's Eve day and it was as magical as ever. For some reason--maybe it's that it's never above 25 degrees when we go, or because everyone has overdosed on the zoo (its "holiday zoo lights" display brings people from far and wide), but there is never anyone else there on New Year's Eve day. Seriously it's like having a private zoo, all to ourselves.



It was just the wolves and us. And yes, they were pretty much licking their chops at these scrumptious children.






One of the best parts about a frigid visit to the zoo is the hot chocolate/donut warm-up that follows.


The next day we feasted on Jewish deli food and watched the big Oregon game. It was fun to have family around to cheer on our "home" team. Most importantly, Ellie and Leo learned the art of chest bumping. (Thanks, Grandpa).


We bid the grandparents a sad goodbye, went back to school and Lucy managed to fall flat on her face and get her first black eye, earning her a new nickname, "Rocky." (I didn't know you could get a black eye wiping out the way Lucy did, but apparently you can).

But by far I think one of my favorite January moments was when Jake and Adam, Leo's buddies from the Friendship Circle, came over for a surprise visit while they were home visiting from college. It took Leo months to stop asking for these guys, who have been spending an hour every weekend with Leo since he was four and they were thirteen. So I thought it would be fun to surprise Leo and not tell him they were coming.



It was better than I could have ever imagined.

Oh Yes, We Partied Like Two Year Olds

Morning of the birthday.































The big, bad two year olds, themselves.









































Did I mention the grandparents from Oregon came to help celebrate Harry and Lucy's birthday? All nineteen of us took the train (thirty minutes) into New York for brunch on birthday morning to see if we could blow Harry's (aka Train Lover) mind (not pictured, photographer Erin).


As you can see we made it to the Big City intact (not pictured: my glass of white wine).


Lucy had the worst time of anyone, as usual.

Mutual Admiration Society.

After brunch we returned home for outdoor water play (it was over ninety degrees and fairly humid).

And of course, cake.


 Lucy's reaction to her first ice cream cake: "WOW!"


My reaction: I cannot believe I forgot the matches and have to go back inside the house again (it's a running joke that when there are 6+ of us, no one is ever outside at the same time and something is always forgotten in the kitchen).

But matches were found and candles were blown (of course, no pictures of the actual moment, are you crazy?). I make everyone sing "Happy Birthday" twice even though Harry and Lucy are too little to care yet (as far as we know).

I'd say the presents were a hit.



Test driving the new vehicles.



A little unsure.


That's more like it.

And now, they are two! In other words, we've survived another year! And I have to say, it just keeps getting better.

This Post Brought To You By Grandparents

(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.

Two Months and (Finding) Routine

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.

Sister Love

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).

Clicking My Ruby Slippers

More and more, Portland feels like home.

The afternoon of our arrival, Ellie running into the arms of Grandpa at the airport.

I don’t know what it is. The older I get, the more I am learning what’s really important. What really matters (if you need any more convincing, see above photo). Finally. I know it’s such a cliché. And I know that no city or place is perfect and that no matter where you go, there you are. But.

Recently, Ellie and I had the privilege of traveling to Portland to attend the opening of my dad’s one man show. Unfortunately, Erin and Leo didn't get to make this trip and it would be an understatement to say that Portland certainly isn't the same without them.

Oh, Portland.

With your lush, ripe, greenery.

Your explosions of spring flowers. Words hardly do it justice.

Ellie and I were up and out before 8 a.m. most mornings.

Destination: Stumptown.

Ellie (poor girl) associates coffee with Dunkin Donuts (the closest “coffee shop” in our New Jersey neighb) and therefore “going to get coffee” equals Munchkins. So when I told Ellie we were going to get coffee, her first question/statement was “I want a donut.”

And donut she had.

Voodoo Donut, to be specific. And in case you were wondering, yes, those are Fruit Loops on that donut. Thanks for asking. I am lucky Ellie didn't explode with joy.

Meanwhile, I had Thai every chance I could.

It reminded me of when I went to Paris for the first time and had my first “real” crepe. Thus began a one week crepe binge. Sometimes I would have two or three a day (cheese for lunch, followed by Nutella for desert) just because I could and just because I knew when I returned home to the states crepes would not be sold on every street corner.

It was great to see old friends.

I was finally able to meet my dear friend Elizabeth’s children in the flesh. Facebook photos only go so far.

It was a dreadful, stormy, bleak day when we met so we gallantly (stubbornly? desperately?) trudged our whimpering children to a nearby coffee shop in the Pearl District. While ordering, I overheard Elizabeth ask for tea, and I worried for a minute that she'd become one of those people who can wake up at five a.m. and still be cheerful with her two and four year old at noon without caffeine. But then I realized the tea was for her two year old. She ordered a triple latte for herself and I breathed a sigh of relief. Pfew. We could still be friends.

That coffee shop was also the scene of one of my favorite Portland Moments. It was when Elizabeth tried to convince her four year old to ask the barista if her empty cocoa cup was "compostable." I'm sure the Oregonians reading this are shrugging their shoulders. Compostable? Sure, why not? Let's just say things are not quite this way in the old NJ.

Later, the short people explored Tanner Springs Park, a sweet little oasis in the heart of the Pearl District (not that the Pearl District exactly needs an oasis). (We later realized we probably shouldn't have let the kids, um, tromp all over the ecosystem. Sorry about that.)

Later the girls enjoyed the view, high above industrial Portland, while we waited for the elevator.

Oh Portland, with your embarrassment of riches at the famed Portland Farmer’s Market. You are glorious, even on a raw, wet April day.

Flowers for sale (It's only April!)


Ellie boogying in the mud.

Oh Portland, with your food carts. (By the way, that little cart? Sawasdee Thai Food? BEST PAD THAI EVER. Oh and $6. Take THAT Yucky New York City $12 Pad Thai. I spotted it on our way home from the Farmer’s Market and literally yelled, “Stop the car!”

Ellie adored the park of my childhood, Laurelhurst, and all its riches (Hey, I think my two-year-old bottom rode that same teeter totter!).

Oh Portland, with your funny little pieces of “found art.”

Someone stuck this funny little duck (?) in the tree outside my dad and stepmom's house. Because that's what people do in Portland.

Oh Portland, with your wisdom:


Oh Portland, two words: Waffle Window.

Genius. (Pictured: caramel with fresh bananas and pecans)

And only a grandma would be in possession of a certain two and a half year old’s dream come true:

a Pink umbrella. Yes it’s true.

And I know we’ve covered this, but I couldn’t resist one more shot.

Beer and peanuts.

Don’t worry. Before we took Ellie to the brew pub she had a nap and a sufficiently kid friendly afternoon at OMSI.


Of course, it’s tempting to romanticize a place when all you are doing is going from family member to family member, friend to friend, shopping and eating Thai food and drinking Stumptown and Mirror Pond. That’s not real life. If we lived there, there would still be bills to pay and jobs to work and kids to ferry to and from school and day care.

Sure there would be the usual drudgery. But with family.

Grandpa and Ellie playing their favorite game of this trip: "Grandpa's rocking, Ellie's rocking, let's touch feet!"

There would be many friends.

And much, much better scenery.

You Can and You Can't Go Home Again

As hard as it was to go back to work right after we returned from Oregon, it was probably a good thing. I am a big sufferer of post vacation blues, particularly when that involves returning home from a beautiful place like Oregon, which elicits smiles like this:

Gee, they don’t look happy or anything, do they?

The trip was brief (six days), but wonderful.

First of all, can we talk about the coffee?

Stumptown Coffee. If you like coffee, find a way to get to Portland and to Stumptown. You will not be sorry. And your latte will look like this.

Art, truly.

But it's not just about coffee. Portland is just unlike any place. I grew up there, so I took it for granted my whole young life, longed to leave it for a good many years. And now that I’m gone, as much as I love my big city (now, more like big city adjacent) life, I find myself coming up with weekly, if not daily schemes to claw my way back. Maybe someday. But for now, it is not to be. In the meantime, there are memories.

Portland is where a house like this is the norm.


Portland is where yards run the gamut, from wild but well kept perennials to disheveled “hippy” lawns, bearing signs that read: “Free dandelions.” True story.

We took many early morning walks (anything to get the loud children out of the house where grandparents still slept) and met a lot of cats.

And it turns out the kids like cats (note the wild, unmowed, hippy yard). And yes that gray blob is a cat.

The day after we arrived, the wedding whirlwind began in full swing. There was a rehearsal Friday afternoon (as mentioned previously, Leo was ring bearer and Ellie was flower girl, while I did a short reading). I admit to having a brief freak out. What if my children ruined my sister’s wedding?

Of course, these angels didn’t ruin anything. And as I said, it all went swimmingly.

That night we went to the rehearsal dinner at a Thai restaurant (another Portland must is Thai food. I lived for many years in the culinary mecca of New York City and still live in close proximity and I’m telling you I never had Thai as amazing as I’ve had in Portland).

But Leo’s views on Thai? Let’s just say he’s not a fan. Desperate, I convinced the waitress to make Leo scrambled eggs (it’s his go-to dish, any time, any where). We figured, there’s egg in the Pad Thai, would it be so much to ask?


Leo kissed the plate when the server brought it. I kid you not. No one ever faulted Leo for not being appreciative.
The maraschino cherries in the Shirley Temples also helped occupy the small people at the table.


A sure sign that Leo is enjoying himself is when his eyes close. It was maraschino bliss.

Shameless, gratuitous photo to show off adorable sailor dress purchased at thrift store for $3.50.

The next morning, the crush began to make the hooligans presentable and well-rested for the big event.

Here they are about 30 minutes before the wedding pictures were taken. As I said, Leo does not wake up in a good mood. Needless to say, he did not appear in any of the wedding pictures.

Moods improved exponentially once there was food. And guess what? Leo can dance!

He loved the music and for a great many songs he was the only one on the dance floor. Leo and Ellie even danced together, albeit, briefly.

(not pictured: the fact that this quickly dissolved into Leo dragging Ellie to the ground a la “ashes, ashes we all fall down!”).

It was a magical evening, the sun setting a milky, orangey pink behind an overcast sky, family members from far and wide and old family friends, some of whom I hadn’t seen for years and years or more, some of whom had never met the children, mingling on the lawn behind an Oregon vineyard. It was dreamlike.

With the wedding over, it was time to switch gears.

We went to the Oregon Zoo and met Samudra, the first third-generation baby elephant to be born in the United States. Leo, like the rest of us, was in love.



After the elephants, well-deserved snowcones with the grandparents in a shady spot.

We went to Multnomah Falls where we took the proverbial family photo in front of the falls. (Check out Leo-miserable as usual.)


And that was that. To all the friends I didn't get to see-I'm so sorry. It was a dizziness inducing short trip. The next day we boarded the plane. Back to New Jersey.

Sigh.

I finally saw "Julie & Julia" (more on that in another post) over the weekend. In it, Paul Child tells Julia “home is wherever we are.” I love that notion, and aim to keep it in my mind when I’m feeling homesick, no matter where I am and no matter where I long to be. The truth is, no place is perfect, not even Oregon. And if the statement “wherever you go there you are” is not the truest sentence ever uttered, than I don’t know what is.

As much as I often wish we lived in Oregon, I know that part of the reason it is so special is because we don’t live there. If I could get that Stumptown latte every day, would it be as sweet? Would a visit with Samudra the baby elephant be as memorable?

Who knows. In the meantime, I'll keep going "home" as often as I can.