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

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

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

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

“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 that other 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 at my five week blood draw had been a bit high. There was a bit of foreshadowing and I had a feeling, but denial is 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 actually 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 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

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

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

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.