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

Around Here

Why is your soccer playing crying, I asked Ellie. "She's not crying. She's sweating!" Ellie replied.


Open Refrigerator: Siren's call to a pair of babies I know. Because, you know, we never feed them. Savages. Oops, I mean, scavengers. Right.


Ketchup Block. What's that you ask?  Why, it's a large box of cereal placed between Ellie and the offender, her most dreaded condiment of all time (ketchup). Feel free to use "Ketchup Block" in conversation as much as possible: I feel strongly that it has a place in our cultural lexicon.


This weekend Leo discovered the Sunday "Funnies."


Harry hitches a ride. Those baby giggles, you should hear them. Best. Sound. In. The. World.

Threadless

I keep waiting to post these pictures for a time when I have a "real" post. Some kind of thread that ties everything together.



Sorry to say, this is not that post.

Because I realize that if I wait too long, these pictures will be outdated. And by too long, I mean oh, two weeks. These pictures are from just a few weekends ago, and I swear the babies already seem bigger and older now than they do here.



Harry is still a fan of Thomas and can usually be seen clutching one of his little Thomas trains. Recently he's discovered other vehicles: see above. Each morning when Leo's bus pulls up in front of the house, Harry greets it with unabashed enthusiasm, waving and grinning. Last week we he rounded out his vehicle collection with a miniature New York City taxi cab, thus adding a new word to Harry's vocabulary: "Ta-eee."



All hail garage sale season and a recent score: the Fisher Price Popper.


Best fifty cents I've spent in a long time.




Lucy is busting out with sentences: "I like that" and "I think so." (When she doesn't have a mouthful of ice cream, of course.)


I swear that Ellie made this exact expression at this age. I have to dig up some old pictures.


It's the old Sure, Mom. You want to take a picture of me? Picture THIS.

I'll give you two guesses as to who tends to be the messier eater of ice cream.

Happy weekend, all.

The Mother's Day Mother Lode

The questions started early last week.


From Ellie: "When is Mother's Day? When is it again? How many days?"

Translation: I love you and you will get lots of presents (I think?)


Saturday morning, Ellie greeted me with the following: "Today's going to be a real party for mothers! Hip hip, hooray!"

Do not ask me where she gets this.

At some point on Saturday I was dealing with a behavior issue of some kind and I grumbled about it (note to self: she listens to everything I say, you'd think I would remember this by now) and Ellie chimed in, incredulously, shaking her head: "Yeah! And tomorrow is Mother's Day!"

Early in the week, Ellie began hinting that she had something for me. For Erin.

I'll leave it up to you to decide who is who. Ellie gave us our cards the Thursday before the Big Day. Being five-and-a-half, she has very little patience (shock!) but in this instance it was endearing.

Leo pounced on me the second I walked in the door on Friday afternoon, to give me one of these. Like Ellie, he absolutely refused to wait until Sunday.

Again, this is impatience I can handle. What can I say? I'm flattered. Could it be that we mothers are...maybe...possibly, sometimes...doing something right?


This weekend Erin also introduced Leo to a new phrase, which I have to say I'm a fan of:
"Mommy knows best." He said it throughout the weekend.



As if that wasn't enough, Ellie made me yet another card on The Big Day. She had high hopes for the day.

And of course, Harry and Lucy could not be left out of the party.

Yes, signed by the babies themselves. Erin may or may not have helped. A little.

Throughout the day on Sunday, Ellie kept checking in with me: Are you having a good Mother's Day, Mommy? Are you?

Oh YES, I answered.

I meant it.

I have to say, Ellie's prediction?

Definitely came true. As I wrote last year, for me, Mother's Day can be complicated: simultaneously joyous (how could it not be? Four (!) wonderful little people). But it can also be tinged with some grief.


Not pictured: the best Co-Mom this Mommy could ask for: Erin (who was busy taking the photo).

But I can honestly say, this year, which included coffee served in bed by all four at 6:45 a.m. (yes, it was just as relaxing as it sounds), breakfast at the neighborhood diner at 7:30, Ellie's soccer game under a cornflower blue sky, a neighborhood walk with a serendipitous run-in with the Ice Cream Man (Ellie's been plotting this for weeks), backyard play (the water table thrills all, again) was the happiest Mother's Day I've had in a very long time. I'd venture to say, ever.

You know what else I love about Mother's Day? Wherever I went, if I had a kid with me? Someone wished me a "Happy Mother's Day." From the cashier at CVS to the random stranger standing outside Starbucks with a cigarette and a coffee. It was just sweet.

I hope yours was happy too.

Mother's Day 2013

"Making the decision to have a child is momentous...


Mama Erin, June 2011


My mom and me, Amsterdam, August, 1999


Grandma Jerry, March 2012


Grandma Linnea, May 2012


March 2013

...It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." -Elizabeth Stone

Happy Mother's Day, to all the mothers in your life.

What Showers? April in Pictures

Turns out, you're never too old (or too big) for the water table. In other news, I think we're going to have a super fun summer in the back yard this year. No more, two kids, two babies. Look out world, four, fully (sort of/mostly) fledged kiddos!


Two guys at Five Guys.


And just a guy and a girl. Lucy's all, "Where's ma foooood?" Harry, meanwhile? Toy vehicle? Totally content.


In other news, I'm in love with my little bleeding heart plant. So perfect, it doesn't even look real. Swoon.


Speaking of love, these two were in lurve with this toddler sized playground they got to explore while Ellie was at swim class last week. Nobody yelled Harry! No ladder! Lucy Get Away From the Ladder! (The ladder on our backyard playground is way to high for them. Another year and they'll be golden).


But this little number?



A perfect fit.




As you can see.

Sunday morning jam sesh.

Rock on, weekend.