Last Days of Disco

I registered the "babies" for kindergarten a few weeks ago.

I don't call them "babies" anymore of course, but that's what they will always be, technically.

The enormity of impending kindergarten is not lost on me.

It's been a looooong two years. It's been wonderful and maddening and exhausting and frustrating and ridiculous and hilarious and stressful and a gift.



When I lost my job just over two years ago, my life changed overnight. Never in a million years did I imagine myself as a "stay at home" mom (and I don't consider that I ever have been since I was fortunate enough to fairly effortlessly segue into steady, part-time freelance work at home). But there is no question that in the last two years I have been "home" much more than I ever was with any of my children. And I don't think I've made any secret of the fact that it hasn't been easy. Of course it hasn't been.



I feel like it's all been leading up to this--the "this" being kindergarten, aka, a full day to complete my work (imagine!) and all the other endless tasks that go along with a house of six that includes four young children. Right now, I bookend the bulk of my work in about three hours in the morning (the amount of time I have once I get all the various children to all of their various places before it's time to pick the twins up from school) and at night after they all go to bed. There's a babysitter in there when work gets particularly overwhelming. I also answer work emails and phone calls and address inquiries throughout the day. And yes, I am basically a crazy person because of this.

I despise being rushed. I abhor doing things "halfway." I detest leaving dishes in the sink and crumbs on the counter and Lego bricks on the carpet in front of the coffee table (OUCH) and laundry unfolded in a basket, but this is what I have learned to live with in the last few years. I pick my battles, I look the other way and I have learned the hell out of prioritizing, compartmentalizing and yes, time management.

I HATE losing my temper and running out of patience but I am human and I have done just this, more times than I am proud of. Because, helloooo, stress.



The days have been long, for sure. Going into this whole "working from home" gig, I knew this was IT. Once they start school? You lose a tiny bit of them that you just never get back. I know this because of Leo and Ellie. These last two years I've done my best to pack the twins' days while also getting my work done. Before they started school in those dark, snowy months right after my full-time job ended, we made the rounds at library story times and used afternoon grocery trips as a way to stay busy get out of the house. Then in September of 2014 both twins were in school five mornings a week, and I got a taste of what life COULD be like when I had the time and space that I had once known. It was a tease of the future, of a life with "big kids."



Once we were no longer slaves to the afternoon nap (at age three, when Lucy put an end to THAT nonsense (groan), the twins started the requisite afternoon classes--gymnastics and swimming at the local community center, two days a week. And sometimes (OK, often), trying to slide dry clothes onto wiggly, still-damp bodies that won't stand still long enough to get properly dried off is about the LAST thing I feel like doing, but I tell myself, SELF? This is it. This is what you do. Because there will never be 1pm swimming classes again, ever. And sometimes we even stop for ice cream on the way home, because that's what you do too.



And now, officially registered for kindergarten and on the precipice of full-day school for ALL four (three at the SAME school? What the what?), it just feels...big.



We sold this bad boy a few weeks ago. Of course we hadn't used it in a while but still...I haven't been without a stroller in my house for...eleven years. It's the end of an era, to be sure.

I've said this before and I'll say it again, as hard as things can feel sometimes, I do my very best not to wish time away. Some mornings when I'm getting breakfast on the table (three different drinks for four kids) and packing lunches and snacks into backpacks and someone is playing a keyboard and another person turns on "Knuffle Bunny" on the CD player at full volume, the very hairs on the back of my neck stand up because it is SO EFFING LOUD and it feels like the walls of the house are going to close in on me.

But then Leo's bus pulls up and he gets on and is off to middle school. And then the rest of us load into the van and sing "Cheerleader" on the way to Lucy's school. And then we get home and Harry's bus is waiting for him. And then it's just Ellie and me. And then she's skipping down the hill to the blacktop where the third, fourth and fifth graders line up.



And then, it's just me. And it's quiet. And sometimes it just feels altogether unfamiliar.

On Balance (HAHAHAHA), a New School Year and Free Reign Chaos

I'm coming out of another work fog that makes me remember that I am a human and that there is life outside of work. It also makes me question how I am handling this Working From Home gig. It's hard, yo!


Then there was the day a few weeks ago that the house internet was down in the midst of a huge work deadline (of course it was!). In the afternoon we all trudged down to the neighborhood "free" wifi spot (Evil Fast Food Restaurant) where I was successfully able to download my much needed document. All was well that ended well there, but not without quote a bit of panic and stress on my part. I think it's clear from the "toasting" of sundaes (seen here) who the winners were that day.

It's all hard:

-Working at the office/commuting/not seeing the kids for ten hours/getting home and scrambling for all the different people begging for attention/feeling guilty because I don't spend enough time with them and the time I do spend isn't "quality" time and I often feel impatient and burned out
-Working from home/carving work in between all the other home responsibilities/seeing the kids for ten hours at a time/getting home and scrambling for all the different people begging for attention/feeling guilty because the time I spend with them isn't "quality" time and I often feel impatient and burned out

But the good thing about being ridiculously stressed and overwhelmed is that when you no longer feel stressed and overwhelmed, you feel Reborn!

After two days on and several days off (Hi, Jewish Holidays), we are officially Back in the Business of School (except for one day last week--Hi Another Jewish holiday). In fact this week, the last one of September, is actually the first full week of school!


Oh, Hiiiiiiiiiiii sixth grade. How's it going? (First day)

Leo is settling into middle school. After a few bumps (on the second week of school it rained. Leo has developed a severe phobia of rain and storms (?) and that day, I was on and off the phone all day with the school nurse, because Leo had come to her with a stomach ache. Several times). We have been talking and talking (and talking) about the importance of rain--to the planet, to the people, you name it. The other bump was that did you know that in middle school they serve pizza Every Day? Leo was confused on a Tuesday when he did not get pizza (because in fifth grade, pizza day was Friday). Sheesh, life is always throwing curve balls, isn't it? Next week he starts some extracurricular activities which I'm excited about (and so is he!): Art Club and Science Club. On the horizon is try-outs for the basketball team (gulp!).


Behold, third grade and Last Year of Preschool x 2

No big news on third grade (fine by me!). Ellie likes her teacher and is happy that one of her good friends is in her class (again). She's started soccer and is enjoying it and Girl Scouts (Brownies) starts again in a few weeks.

Lucy is excited to be in the "Big Kid" class in preschool. She has the teacher Ellie had her last year of Pre-K, which is fun and familiar. After a few relatively smooth months (it's all relative, not sure if smooth is the best word) Lucy seems to be entering another tricky phase. It seemed to kick off with the transition to big kid beds. Maybe it's too much change at once. I could just really do without the tantrums about television and the running away from me in the parking lot. And the driveway. This too shall pass, I know. The thing is, she can be SO SWEET. And mature! And sensitive. When Erin had some oral surgery recently, she came over to her and crawled into her lap and said, "Mama? Does your mouth hurt? I'll be extra sweet to you."

On the first chilly morning of fall I dug out my old beloved khaki trench coat which she complimented me on, calling it my "fancy" coat. When Harry is running around the bedroom without pants on at bedtime and she's quietly brushing her teeth with her legs folded crisscross applesauce, she asks me, "Mommy? Am I being a very good girl?" Jekyll. And. Hyde.


And just like that, we said goodbye to cribs (I know, four is old to be in a crib but if you have twins, you get it). Do not, I repeat DO NOT be fooled by their apparent calm. Cribs for everyone!


I was admiring Harry's Transformer "dollhouse" and "family." "It's NOT a dollhouse family," he replied, incredulous. "It's an ARMY!"

After a month with Lucy at her school, Harry was a little unhappy about having to go back to his other school (where he continues to get the speech therapy that he's happily growing out of the need for but I'm not arguing with free preschool!). His disappointment passed quickly--he now seems to really enjoy where he is--all last year he would ask in the morning, "Is it a school day?" And when he found out it was, his face would fall a little. But now, he has a little spring in his step in the morning and bounds off the bus in the late morning, talking about a handful of little boys he played Transformers with or a book they got to read in library.

And then there's me. Four years in and I'm STILL not accustomed to the chaos of having twins. One four year old is one thing. Two? Right now what I'm struggling most with is listening. As in, they don't listen to me. Or at least, not as much as I need them to.

I am a person who likes order. Routine. And did I mention quiet? OK, I have mostly accepted the fact that our house is the opposite of quiet, but that doesn't mean I don't find it all too much to take sometimes. It seems like for the most part, ever since we converted the cribs to toddler beds, bedtime, or more like, around 4pm every day, evolves into something out of an episode of "Super Nanny, "but BEFORE Super Nanny swoops in and makes everything OK. It just feels completely out of control. Jumping off beds. Ignoring simple, completely reasonable requests like, "Can you please go to the bathroom and put your pajamas on?"

We're trying a few things that are hopefully helping (awarding "coins" for good behavior that they collect to earn a small prize at the end of the week). I HATE material bribes but you do what you gotta do right? I'm also hoping that maybe the novelty of being "free reign" at bedtime will wear off soon.

And you know, there's the flipside of course. These two incredibly frustrating, challenging, adorable, interesting, smart hilarious people. Just as I did the day they were born, I still marvel at them. TWO of them.


To quote Harry, who said, right as I was taking this picture: "There are too many people in this pool!"





Well, four of them.

This too shall pass, and all that jazz.

Summer 2015: What a Difference a Year Makes

Summer is winding down.

The dog days (hello stretches of 90+ days and insufferable humidity, would you please just bring us a nice, cleaning, good old fashioned east coast summer thunderstorm please?) are upon us.

If I had to sum up the summer in one sentence it would be this:

What a difference a year makes.

There were loads of milestones. I frequently took the twins (and a big kid or two) to the town pool on my own this summer (see above). That felt like a major accomplishment.



I'm not potty training twins.

No one naps.

Everyone is (for the most part) calmer.

I touched on this a bit at the end of last summer, this feeling that I am a fifth wheel and they just don't need me the way they used to (by the way I am not broken up about this and say it without a single tinge of melancholy). I mean, of course they need me. But so much of the time I find that I am mostly doing maintenance and upkeep around here (filling the dishwasher, granting snacks, anticipating the next activity--What in the HELL am I going to make for dinner--and do these people REALLY need to eat AGAIN?).

This is partly my own doing (when they are all home or even when it's just the three of them--usually Ellie, Harry and Lucy in the afternoons, since Leo has been at an all day camp for the last month) they tend to get involved in elaborate activities (vet hospital, mountain lions, Play-Doh, to name a few). For the most part, it's very easy for me step aside and just let them do their own thing (listening with a half an ear of course).

By the way, Ellie? World's best au pair/mother's helper. I seriously could not ask for more. She has saved me more than a few times this summer when I've had to meet a work deadline and the twins are clamoring.

Ellie made us crepes for dinner from her new cookbook (with fresh strawberry topping). Eight thumbs up!

This summer, Leo turned eleven.



Ellie turned eight. She attended gymnastics, art and invention camps.


At the pool on her birthday she had a hot dog AND ice cream. I mean, you only turn eight once, right?


Ellie also learned how to ride a bike.

Leo went on his first overnight at camp (on his birthday, no less!).


Every year on Leo's birthday I have the same thought: that I couldn't be more proud of my boy, and that I wish I could go back in time to that terrifying day he was born and say, 'Self? Leo is going to be JUST FINE. In fact, the day before he turns eleven, he'll ride a jet ski for the first time, and on his actual birthday? He'll go on his first camp overnight.


School, together. Day 1.

Lucy and Harry had milestones too. During the month of August, since Harry's school was closed, he got to attend camp (cough, cough glorified preschool) with Lucy. I was surprised by how much they enjoyed being together (I always assumed they liked the break from each other that separate schools afforded since they are togetherallthetime). But no. Every morning this August, the first words out of Harry's mouth are: "Do I get to go to Lucy's school today?" I actually think he might just be in it for the LEGO bricks in Ms. Jamie's room but I could be wrong.



The thing that is so crazy to me is that the twins are now, the same age as Ellie was when they were born. Maybe it's because there are two of them and they rile each other up so much of the time but they just still seem so--Little. Young. Yes, babyish.


Summer, 2011. Sunrise, Sunset.












We still have a little over a week until school starts. It's hard to believe this is the twins' last year before "real" school (kindergarten). It's hard to believe Leo is heading off to middle school. We received Leo's bust "ticket" for the year and he'll be picked up at 7:30am (YIKES). That's going to be interesting.

Birthdaypalooza and Summer Status

Summer is birthday season around here.

And just like that:


Three.


Seven.


Ten.

Clearly there has been some mix-up because, I have twin toddlers, not preschoolers. And there's just no way I'm old enough to have a TEN YEAR OLD. I mean, really.


They play nicely like this ALL the time, I assure you.

It's amazing that summer is more than half over. In fact, I think school starts a week from tomorrow. Crazy.

Leo and Harry finished up their stints at summer school. Ellie has been enjoying various camps (town camp, gymnastics and to come are science and art). Leo started at his amazing camp last week and comes home every night flushed, smiling and exhausted, so clearly that camp is doing something right. This week Lucy finally gets her turn as she embarks on a mini ballet camp (a whole two hours a day). Speaking of Lucy's camp, you know you've had a couple of kids when, upon emailing your three year old's camp to find out if the TWO HOUR program is drop off and they reply: "If you'd be more comfortable staying that's fine but it is drop-off," your reaction is all YIPPEE!! See you in two hours, Cutie! 

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Did you hear the cheers of parents all over the country yesterday morning? Particularly two in New Jersey?


These two were ready. First and fourth grade, respectively. And as Erin noted, the above shot is the first time these two have not bickered in two weeks.

(More on life for the last two weeks in another post).


I realize I'm biased. But this?

Stick a fork in me. I'm done. That's it. Dead of the cuteness. (Also, J.C. Penney? I think you have a modeling contender if you care to recreate the catalog from 1982).

I am so proud of my girl who knows nothing about mini skirts or short shorts. She picked this out the night before, a gift from Grandma Jerry. You guys, it has smocking. Again. I'm done. (Sidenote: It's a little on the long side and when Lucy saw it on Ellie she pronounced it "Too big.").

Leo took the bus as he always does, but I was able to bring Ellie to school and meet her teacher (Leo's teacher actually tutored him over the summer so we're old friends by now).

And how's this for small world news (as well as Damn, I'm Old): Ellie's teacher is the older sister of one of Leo's former classmates (who also happens to have Down syndrome!). I thought that was pretty cool.

Ellie was excited to see a girl from camp in her class (who happened to be new to the school). I was so impressed by how friendly Ellie was to her. She may not have realized what she was doing, but the little girl seemed cheered by Ellie's presence and interest in her.

Ellie wasn't scared or nervous in the least (at least not that I could tell) but she still wanted me to stay with her until the very last minute, before the classes went inside. 

I hope it's a very long time before I'm waved off at the curb, before school. I'm relishing these years that they are still not ashamed to be seen with me, that they, gasp, even seem to like having me around!

Two At Two

Today, Harry and Lucy turn two.



I can't believe it. But of course, I also can.

For all the early, blurry, sleep deprived days and months of having two babies, when I walked around in an absolutely overwhelmed fog, stretched thinner than tracing paper, muttering This Can't Be Done, well, I'm here to tell you it can.

Because here they are.

Full fledged little people.

Walking and talking. Pushing, shoving, giggling, crying, whining. Rolling off couches and crouching over inch worms and sneaking up ladders and barreling down drive ways and swinging in unison, shrieking with glee.

Sure, it can be messy. Sometimes our house gets a little loud (shocking!) and people may have to wait longer than they'd prefer to before they get something. But have we talked about the full-time playmate they have in each other (yes, I know, ad nauseam)! Of course, they are each other's punching bags, but they are also each other's partners in crime (the crime spree list is long and includes tag team refrigerator raiding, synchronized bed jumping and of course the infamous Two Toddlers Standing on the Kitchen Table Act, which is not to be missed).



Harry (Hare-Man, Hare-Bear, Harrison, Bear-Bear, Bearison) your love of vehicles and machinery knows no bounds. Only you can spot a school bus or garbage truck from blocks away and by sound alone. Your mischievous grin and quarter mile long eye lashes could charm a Grinch.Most days you are content to line up Thomas trains and dump trucks but will pause for a good book or three. You are calm and content ninety percent of the time but wake most mornings and after most naps down right furious. Luckily it passes quickly.



You still let your little sister push you around and often come running to us after an altercation with her, but you're starting to stick up for yourself more.  Usually all you need are some cuddles. You come at us head first and you snuggle hard and you throw back your little brown head and you just laugh and laugh and then it's back to the trucks and the trains. You have work to do.

You are still the messiest eater. Perhaps, ever.





Lucy, (Lu, Louie, Louis, Lucifier, Louachinsky, Lulu) you truly are the happiest baby I've ever met (and yes, one of these days I promise to stop referring to you and your brother as babies but today is not that day). From the giant grin you greet us with in the morning, to the waves you give everyone when they enter the room, or when you pass them on the street, you love people. Technically, you are the youngest, but you seem to be a born leader. Several times a day you take my hand: "Come, come," you tell me, wrapping my hand in your tiny, soft, pink fingers. Aaaand...often our journey ends at the refrigerator. Because you want cheese.



In the last week you suddenly have so many preferences! "I like that!, I don't like that!, I don't like that game" (and you're so specific!). You also have no problem being contrary: ("I don't think so"). You prefer people over most toys though you are a slave to shoes (preferably red sequined flats belonging to a certain big sister) and dress-up clothes (hats are another favorite).

So far you are the only one who takes after me with the curly hair.


Keep up the good work, my girl.

Even though many days I find myself singing "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" under my breath (no joke: we have dubbed this our official family theme song), we love and adore you two, the little bookends to our family we didn't know we were missing.


I couldn't believe the news when I heard you were coming (and I mean COULD NOT), and now? I can't imagine a life without you.

Thank you for making me laugh every single day.





Thank you for making Leo and Ellie amazing older siblings and role models to you (most of the time).

The gift of seeing you all together is one I still sometimes can't believe is true.


Thank you for bringing your mama and me even closer together.

Thank you for helping me find patience and strength that I never knew I had.

Thank you for introducing me to more happy tears (because everyone knows I cry when I'm happy) than I ever thought possible.

The double snuggles aren't bad either.

Happy birthday, dear Harry.

Happy birthday, dear Lucy.

Love, Mommy