Greetings From a Very Grateful "Fifth Wheel"

Yes, this already happened. We may be a little excited.

I refuse to let a whole month go by with no posting.

Time marches on. Fall is a blur. We've already had our first snow fall.


Did I mention we had our first ever (that I can recall) white Thanksgiving?


Speaking of Thanksgiving, its spoils (the crafts and cards that the children bring home) never get old: Oh Leo, how I love YOU!


We are still trying to figure out Leo's placement for next year. More on that to come. I am in deep, deep (did I mention DEEP?) denial that this year is his last year of elementary school which is another way of saying that next year means middle school. Change is hard (for me). Leo has had a good few months, just finished up his first season of soccer on a special needs team and he's excited about the upcoming basketball season (same league).



I am ridiculously late to posting just about everything that happened in the last few months--this picture feels like a million hundred years ago but Ellie had a blast playing soccer this season. She was incredibly spirited and excited and I think just genuinely loved being a part of a team. She cried when the season ended ("I won't get to see any of the girls on my team anymore!"). She's devouring books (Dan Gutman is her favorite author) and leading us all in holiday craft time (my favorite of late is the ornament she made today, composed of red and green construction paper  that said simply: "2014: I was 7.")


This girl continues to push every button of my soul, even buttons I didn't know I existed. She barrels through her little life as her twin brother does, but in a different way. I've never known someone who could be so gleeful as she was being insistent. Often it seems like there simply are no rules in Lucy's life. When I tell her not to do something I'm met with, "Oh MOMMY," and I can almost hear her cluck her little tongue at me as she goes about her merry way, fetching her loaf of bread and jar of blueberry jam out of the refrigerator even though it's only 9:30 am, not lunch time  or even snack time and LUCY PUT DOWN THE STEAK KNIFE PLEASE. She's in that challenging "Uppy MOMMY!" phase--it's stunning how she can be so needy and yet so mind-numbingly independent at the same time. Case in point: Tonight I marveled at her ability to put on her own pajamas--she meticulously layed them out on the green shag rug and slipped each miniature leg into a sleeve of knit lavender polka dot legging. "I did it ALL by myself!" She squealed proudly.

And then barely missing a beat, she announced she didn't want to wear those pajamas. She wanted her CHEETA pajamas. Because, of course!!

Sometimes when I get truly desperate, I remind myself that she just wants attention--there's a lot of competition in our house and everyone has a different tactic in getting theirs. And just when I think she is going to throw herself on the ground or burst into tears and refuse to acquiesce, she'll shrug her tiny shoulders and say Oh, OK. Three year olds. They are just little mysteries aren't they?


Harry holds court at the traditional (preschool) feast of chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese.

Harry is thriving at preschool. His language is exploding and his sentences are becoming more complex. "Mommy, I want to go downstairs and eat my dinner. Pick me up!" (This is his command to me every morning--by the way, dinner=breakfast). He continues to have a predilection for falling head first off of chairs and spilling the equivalent of buckets of seltzer (Oh HARRY! is still heard several times a day at our house), but it's partly how he barrels through his little life that makes him so irresistible. When he and Lucy are not having complicated conversations about who has which body part, and disagreeing about who ate all the Pirate Booty, they are telling us they love us. In the last few months Harry and Lucy have become confirmed playmates (they have been all along of course but the "parallel play" has officially graduated into more detailed, organized activities and scenarios. Ellie is often the ring leader: "Let's play Superheros! Let's play Evil Fairies! Let's play Snow Queens!"

I've been meaning to mention this for the last oh, three months (sorry, blog): More and more I feel like the most giant Fifth Wheel in the history of wheels around these four. They play and play and oh sure, fight and bicker and squable and someone bursts into tears and then someone yells and then someone apologizes. And then they go back to playing Snow Queens.


When they asked to do Play-Doh this weekend I cringed inwardly (it usually takes longer to set it up and clean up the mess than the time it takes to actually play it) but with no better ideas to offer (it was 29 degrees outside), I agreed. What followed was an unprecedented TWO HOUR PLAY-DOH MARATHON. I know.

It's amazing. And I never thought I would like being "left out" out of anything. But the other day I took a shower in the morning while they were all downstairs, just playing. I think it's fair to say I never thought that day would come. Life, it does go on.

Middle School Trepidation, (Happy) Conference Tears and My Accidental 31 for 21 Post

The middle of October? GAH!

This is the first year since I've kept this blog that I have not participated in 31 for 21 (blogging for 31 days in honor of Down syndrome awareness/October as Down syndrome Awareness month).

I am not happy about this. I miss this blog. I miss reflecting on this crazy life. It's not that I'm NOT reflecting, I just don't have the same kind of time to compose my thoughts on said crazy life.



As I always do, I will blame them.



They are so helpful while raking leaves, said no parent of preschool twins EVER.



Fall is in full swing. Our neighborhood is awash in orange twinkly lights and porches are bedecked with pumpkins, hay and mums. There also seems to be a proliferation of zombie decorations this year (or as the twins call them, "b'zombies," to which I echo, "pastrami?"). Don't ask--this is what happens when you spend WAY too much time with two three year olds.

We are almost two months into school (what?) and this week was parent teacher conferences.



I met with Leo's teacher first. It was...ok.  He's doing FINE. Math is still his biggest struggle and I'm trying to figure out if it has to be this hard. I mean, I'm not looking for some kind of miracle but I have to wonder if part of it is the way it's being taught. We discussed my interest in him using a more visual math program. I brought up (TouchMath) a program I'd heard good things about and was met with blank looks. I will continue to pursue this. One lightbulb moment though: I don't have to help Leo with his homework. In fact, according to his teacher I shouldn't be doing so. I can't tell you how huge this is. Up until this point I've been sitting with him, dictating some words when he asks, helping him form sentences. The teacher's response: Stop it. He can do it himself and SHOULD be. And guess what? She was right. Of course Leo is not happy about this new development but he'll get used to it.


Our annual visit to...the apple farm parking lot. Ha ha kidding. We did go apple picking, it was just so hectic that I forgot to ask Erin to take a picture until we were about to pack it up go home. Be assured it was scenic!

I can't go into too much detail here but I will say that I am getting VERY NERVOUS about the upcoming transition to middle school. Preparations are already beginning. We are touring a prospective school on Monday and another the following week. This is a time I've been dreading for years, leaving the safe, familiar comfort of his sweet elementary school. The rumor has always been, as one of my dear fellow "special needs" moms puts it, that middle school is "where it all falls apart." Let's hope (OBVIOUSLY) that's not the case. Stay tuned.


Ellie is really into Halloween. Talking about Halloween. Drawing Halloween (seen here: haunted house).

Ellie's conference felt decidedly lighter. When I walked into the room, the teacher welcomed me to a little table and announced that "this is a conference I've been looking forward to."

Swoon.

Of course I teared up. I almost always do at conferences. Yes, Ellie is doing well and fine academically. She's reading at grade level. Math-wise, she's right where she should be. But what her teacher remarked on is Ellie's sensitivity and helpfulness, her compassion and innate ability to recognize when other children need assistance. She detailed how Ellie will help another child, but do it in such a way that she's not drawing attention to herself or seeking out commendation, nor does she in any way make the child feel inferior because they need extra help.

Hmm. Wonder where this comes from? Could it be, that all those articles and studies about the benefits of growing up with a sibling with special needs might actually be true?



Another small example: Ellie's teacher told me that the other day she asked Ellie to bring something to the office and told Ellie she could choose a "buddy" to accompany her. All arms went up in the air. Rather than choose one of her little friends, Ellie, by her own volition, picked a child that is one of the most troublesome, who requires a lot of attention (for behavior). And Ellie's teacher thought that was a pretty impressive choice.

Last night Ellie was asking me about middle school (she listens to everything I say. When will I actually digest this?). "Will Leo and I go to the same middle school?" She asked. I told her no, that it wouldn't work out because of the age difference, but then I did the math and realized they could potentially be in the same high school (OMG. HIGH SCHOOL?).

"But we wouldn't be in the same class, right?"

I said no, not the same class. And then I paused and asked her why she thought that was. I wanted to know if she was going to say something about special needs (she does know the term and she does know about Leo's Down syndrome).

"We won't be in the same class because they don't allow brothers and sisters to be in the same class," Ellie announced with certainty and pride and just a tinge of irritation for my not knowing this.

Swoon again.

So there you go. And maybe this is my accidental "31 for 21 post."

The Kickoff to the Lead Up: Or, Hello Candy Corn

It's officially my favorite time of year. Not only because the weather is fantastic, glorious and inspiring (oh, hi there, golden and ruby red leaves dancing against a stunning backdrop of crystal clear, cornflower blue sky,) but because it's the kickoff to the lead up to the Holiday Seasons (HalloweenThanksgivingChristmasHanukkah).

Plus? ALL the children are in school. For at least a few hours a day (more on that in a minute).

***

For some reason this year I got the urge to cook for Rosh Hashana (I can't remember the last time I did this and I've never done it with/for the kids).



I dug out my mom's old kugel recipe (see above) knowing full well I'd be the only one to eat it. Harry and Leo did take a few bites before pronouncing it "Yucky."


Oh well, their loss.

One item I know would be a hit was the challah, which I'd planned to pick up the day before Rosh Hashana at a nearby bakery. Of course, even though this errand was at the top of my to do list, I forgot, thus necessitating I take all four children out in the rain on Rosh Hashana morning to another nearby bakery that was open.


The shlep was worth it for this beautiful baby, which ended up being the main course for most of the diners (along with apples and honey and the dessert):


The "traditional" Rosh Hashana yellow sheet cake with vanilla buttercream frosting and sprinkles. Because even though I attempted to get them to try the kugel I knew full well NO ONE would eat honey cake. Does anyone like honey cake?

Ellie (who appears to have inherited the family holiday celebration gene) dove headfirst into the Rosh Hashana festivities. While she dipped Gala apples into a ramekin of honey, she wanted to know if we could make Rosh Hashana decorations, and announced that she "loved Rosh Hashana." You really do have to love the enthusiasm of a seven year old.


Speaking of enthusiasm, how about this for an outfit? Puppy dog fleece, Eiffel Tower capris and (not seen) a Hello Kitty tunic. Oh, to be three.




The month of September marked Lucy's first month of preschool and last month of part-time preschool. Oh she's still only going half days but she's now going FIVE days a week (up from three). It became pretty clear when, upon asking if she had school on Tuesday and Thursday mornings and she burst into tears, wailing Yes I AM! that the girl was ready to be in school every day. I was equally ready.

Here's an example of a recent conversation with the ever-ebullient Lucy. It was Monday morning at the breakfast table and she was talking about the upcoming Halloween party (which she was convinced was taking place that afternoon).

Lucy: And later I have a Halloween party!
Ellie: No you don't. Halloween isn't until the end of the month.
Erin: Oh Ellie, why are you trying to ruin her day?
Lucy: Yeah! I LOVE my day!


We had a few, last "just Mommy and Lucy mornings."



On the weekends she asks what time school is and will often insist on eating her lunch from out of her lunch box. Safe to say, she's enjoying her academic life. And for those wondering about her behavior? She is carrying on the family tradition of being a Completely Different Kid at school (read: well behaved). So there you go.

***

Decorating season is in full swing.


And by Decorating I don't just mean interiors. Why should the festivities be limited to the house? (And yes, those are my knee socks thankyouverymuch).



Ellie took it upon herself to start the fall art/craft projects though I'm pretty sure it was just an excuse to get out the candy corn.


Speaking of candy corn, I finally fulfilled a lifetime dream of completing a candy corn wreath (seen above and of course, at the beginning of this post because really, you just can't have too much candy corn wreath). I have to also say that this was completed with lots of instruction and moral support from the fabulous Amy.

I usually wait until at least October to haul out the Halloween decor but Ms. Holiday (Ellie) begged me to "bring out just a couple things" last weekend, so out came the Rubbermaid containers, along with the rest of the Halloween paraphernalia.



"Is this ALL we have?" asked a non-plussed Ellie, registering her deep dissatisfaction in the volume of Halloween trinkets in our possession (there's plenty more than what you see above, trust me). Seriously this girl's middle name is More Is More. So we might have to make a pit stop at the local Goodwill (my secret weapon for holiday decorating) this weekend. And we may also need to pick up a few more bags of candy corn.

September, So Far

Monday morning means the return of the pile o' packs.



Waiting. And waiting some more for Leo's bus. His afternoon bus? Is of course early. Twice last week I had to call to the bus to wait and I rounded the corner on the way home from picking Ellie up. "That's my kid!" I yelled, as I saw the bus begin to pull away. Ellie thought that was pretty funny.


Pretty much fulfilled a major parenting dream here: tiny, old school Sauconys.


"Look Mommy," said Ellie, "I'm dipping Harry!"


This is what a non-napping three old looks like. He falls asleep in anything with wheels (car, stroller). That day he stayed asleep when I went to get him out of the stroller. RARE. It was sweet to have a sleeping "baby" on my shoulder, even if it only lasted a few minutes.


Another view of a non-napping three year old. She pretty much just goes "splat" when her head hits the pillow at night.


I am unreasonably excited about the crisp mornings and cool evenings we've been enjoying since almost the first week of September. This of course means the return of knee sock season. Summers here can be horrific, winters are interminable, spring is two weeks long. But fall? Oh east coast fall I adore you.


Harry and Lucy Lebowitz, the old married couple spending their Golden Years at the Catskills (actually it's Harry and Lucy eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Goldfish for dinner while they watched Ellie at soccer practice).


I need a flow chart. Seriously. Every day is different (but all hail Friday, aka pizza day when no one needs a lunch packed). Ahhhhh.


"Back to School Night," the Harry edition.


"Back to School Night, the Ellie edition.

(Due to scheduling conflicts, and our inability to clone ourselves, we had to miss Leo and Lucy's back to school nights. Otherwise known as the plight of having four children and back to school nights that are held on the Same Day at the Same Time. Sigh.)


I pretty much just put my face into this entire box after making it through the first week of four kids in four schools, oh yes I did.

5, 2, Pre-K, Pre-K: Ready, Set, Go!

And just like that, summer was over.



All in all, it was a good one. It was not without its complications of course (working part-time from home with four kids? Not for the faint of heart-By the way, I think I need to just go ahead and pre-order that line on my grave stone: Not For The Faint of Heart). But considering all there was to balance, I think it went well. It was the first I spent with the kids since The First Summer (that would be, when the twins were born and GAH I think I have basically repressed that by necessity). Needless to say life at home with four that includes twin three year olds is a little different than newborn twins (newsflash!).

I want to say this was our last "hard" year (stop laughing). Maybe next year I will be able to manage more daring outings solo? In the beginning and middle of the summer we were still haggling with naps so we were limited schedule-wise--oh but those days are all in the past now (SOB). Harry could definitely still use one, a fact which he makes particularly clear around 2:58 pm each day when suddenly all the Lego structures start falling apart and he wants cheese crackers right! Nowwwww! And whyyyyy can't he have MORE Batman Legos? But instead, he chose to fall asleep on the way to picking Ellie up from camp. For a whole ten minutes. On particularly long days, Lucy would usually snooze on the way home. Because, tandem naps? HA!


It was Ellie who had this genius idea when we went school supply shopping last week. Two carts! One for Twins, one for Stuff. Brilliant. Everyone was happy, reasonably calm and well-behaved. Also? Contained. WIN!


By Labor Day everyone was clamoring to get back to routine (or start one). This was at 7:30 in the morning. Ellie playing school with her eager students.


Ironically, the littlest one was the first to go back. Lucy started preschool last Wednesday (a day before the other three returned). So far (all two days), so good! Her teacher has picked up on her "stubborn streak" (a kind word for Lucy's tendency to uh, bulldoze her way through life), but we shall see how it all shakes out. She is certainly ready, that we know.


First day of second and fifth grade. No idea what was going on with this little love fest here. I think they were both so thrilled to soon be rid of each other that they decided to show a little last-minute affection.


I know, I know, Harry was in preschool for much of the summer but he was "off" the whole month of August and he had an official first day just like the big kids.


Day one had Ellie very excited to impress her new teacher (or maybe she was just eager to try out the Mr. Sketch markers I had to go to two different stores to find-they were on her supply list as "required.")


Ready! Set! Everyone say, Back to School!

And that's just what they did.

Big Summer Blowout: Odds & Ends

'

Summer is winding down for us. Though I did make the terrifying discovery last week that school doesn't start for the big kids until September 4 (for some reason I had it in my head that it was the Tuesday after Labor Day). I know, I know, it's only two days. But it's--TWO DAYS. Leo and Ellie both finished camp last week so this will enable us to have, um, lots of last minute togetherness.



Leo LOVED his camp. I can't say enough great things about his experience there this summer. He came every week with new pottery creations, he scaled the rock wall, he travailed the zip line, he swam twice a day and had private swimming lessons. It's just a shame he couldn't have been better prepared for Rainbow Day.



As mentioned previously, Ellie enjoyed a variety of week long camps. Just like last year, she loved art camp (she's asked to do two weeks next summer).



I might be just a little proud of the work she did there.




The Eiffel Tower was my favorite, of course.





She was so inspired that week that as soon as we could clear the breakfast dishes away she was asking to paint. She then led the twins in a 7:30 a.m. painting clinic.



These two.  This was in the waiting room of the pediatrician's office (Ellie insisted I take her in after she suffered a week with a cold--she was convinced she had the strep throat that Lucy had a few weeks before--"I think it's pretty obvious I have strep," Ellie informed me, not even trying to mask her impatience--Spoiler alert: she did not have strep).  They just seem giant to me lately (see above). Like, who stole my babies and replaced them with these big kids? (Not that they are acting like big kids or anything).




Speaking of camp. Lucy's tights fared about as well at "ballet camp" as Lucy did. We got a call the second day to come pick her up because she not only refused to participate but was being "defiant." Apparently she enjoyed the craft and snack portion of the camp but seemed to not like the actual "dance" element of dance camp. Whoops.



No Jedi Camp for Harry. Just a lot of backyard light sabering and Lego playing and Batman Lego and Super Hero book reading.



I don't even know what to say about these people. Did I mention all of this happened before 8 a.m.?



A pretty great summer, if you ask me.

3

NOTE: Once upon a time I did birthday posts for each kid. I know it's pretty much only grandparents, some family members and the other three or four readers kicking around the cobwebs and tumbleweed here lately, but for posterity's sake, I like the "keepsake" quality of these little birthday posts. So I'll try to keep them up as best I can. I know that the "multiples" police would be on me about making this a single post. They should each have their own. Well, I'm the Mommy and I'm going to make the rules and for now, at age three they get a package post. Also, we won't talk about the fact that this one is sixty four days late. So in order of appearance, the first birthday of this year was Harry and Lucy's, in June.

I don't think I can find the words to convey how quickly the last three years of my life have gone by. Oh sure, the every-two-hours-tandem-breastfeeding-in-the-middle-of-the-night sure didn't fly, and neither did those dual scream fests when both Harry and Lucy had ear infections. In a hotel room. In the middle of a freak October snowstorm.

This Too Shall Pass.


June, 2011. One day old.

And did it ever.


June, 2014

It will get easier.

It will get fun.

They'll stop being two babies and they'll start being two little people!




That's what everyone told me, from the pediatrician, to the seasoned veteran moms of multiples that chatted up me and my giant double newborn stroller, everywhere we went.

 And you know something? They were right.

Anyone who's read this blog with any frequency will know that I haven't exactly kept it a secret: Newsflash: Having two babies isn't easy! But I've tried really hard to not wish Harry and Lucy's baby days away, to not pine too much for the times when they will be older and it will be "easier."



Because as cliche as it is, it's true. One day you turn around and your newborns are three year olds. (Yes, yes, I know, before I realize it they'll be slamming doors in my face before heading off to college--let's not get ahead of ourselves).





At age three, Harry is rough and tumble and cuddly at the same time. He'll run straight at you with his hard little light brown head and throw his arms around your legs. Then he'll look up and say, "You like that Mommy?" 

It seems like he can play for an hour by himself with the Holy Grail--the "Big Boy" Legos in Leo's room (shhh, don't tell Leo).



His language continues to explode. It's been such a joy to get to know him better and find out what he's thinking about and what's going on in that little brown head of his, these past few months. Preschool, which he started in June, has been wonderful, cracking his little world and mind, wide open. This summer he's marched off the school bus singing nursery rhymes that I didn't even know he knew. He's showing an interest in Broadway show tunes (Ellie got him hooked on "Annie"), could a mother be more proud?



He loves to make silly faces and takes great pleasure in making you laugh.



Harry is both strong and sensitive. The other night before bedtime, during what's become a nightly jumping fest (don't ask, let's just say I'm amazed the cribs are still standing), Harry bumped his elbow pretty hard on the side of his crib. A look of pain washed over his face and I asked him if he was ok.
"The crib hurt my feelings," he said.


First day of preschool, June, 2014.

At age three Harry loves:
-Trader Joe's dried (dehydrated) strawberries and strawberry bars (but not ACTUAL strawberries).
-Anything Batman.
-Legos.
-Legos.
-Legos.



At age three, Lucy continues to be a force. Her loquaciousness both impresses me and exhausts me. With the others in summer school and camp, I have spent quite a bit of time with just Lucy these last few months, which has been both a gift and a challenge.




The Queen oversees the opening of birthday gifts from Grandma Jerry.



I seem to recall having similar feelings about Ellie at age three. I was confounded by her witticisms and adorableness, yet often flattened by her ability to be so frequently downright unreasonable. Here's a perfect example of Lucy at age three:

"MOMMY!! Look at me! I'm going potty!"

[I look at her and even add in some positive reinforcement: "Great job, Lucy! Great pottying!"]

"MOMMY!! Stop looking at me! Leave me alone!"


This is what happens almost any time we try to take Lucy anywhere, outside of the house, for more than thirty minutes (photo taken at the Intrepid Museum in New York City).

To be fair, Lucy is also one of the funniest, silliest, most cheerful people I've ever met (cheerful as long as she is getting exactly what she wants, that is). She just has this, how shall I put it? Very demanding tone. And she likes to do things her way. Erin says she has NO idea where she gets this from (OK, I might be a tad bit of a control freak). Or maybe it's more like a shriek? I think school is going to help Lucy, a lot. I think she's bored. I mean, I try to do things to keep her stimulated and entertained. But I can only do so much. She's just, a force, who needs constant...something.


I had to document these pigtails AND this bow since she lets me "do" her hair about every six months. Also, why don't my curls look this good in the New Jersey humidity?

Lucy likes to know the name of every person and object she meets and sees. When we are out and about or reading a book she'll see a person (the checker at the grocery, a character in an illustration) and ask, "What's he name? What he name is?" The questions come rapid fire--sometimes I don't even have time to answer before she's moved on to the next one. I've even started making up names for inanimate objects since she doesn't like what I call things. (For instance, if I say it's a "piano" she'll say, "No it's not!" So I'll say, "It's Penelope Piano!" And that makes her happy. It's like she's so social and loves people so much that she thinks everyone should have a name.


Speaking of books, this is the work of Lucy. Destroying property to this extent? I have to say this was a parenting first, for me. Oh and of course she blamed Harry. (To be fair I'm sure Harry contributed to this project (based on the placement of the pages) but I am pretty sure Lucy was the instigator).


See? HAPPY. This was Ellie's last day of school. When I was snapping a shot of Ellie's last day of first grade, Lucy was right there and refused to be outdone by her big sister, demanding: "Take MY picture Mommy!" 

At age three Lucy likes:
-Anything My Little Pony
-Fairies
-Dressing up
-Chocolate (she got Ellie's sweet tooth, that is for sure).

To quote that old post of mine from when Ellie was three, 'I love three. I hate three.'





She is his "Loo-swee," he is her "How-rie."

They are hilarious, mischievous, clever, maddening, fascinating, frustrating, boisterous, impossible little balls of fun and love. They exhaust me and bring me and the whole family endless amounts of joy.

Happy birthday, dear Harry and Lucy!

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! 

Summer, So Far

Summer is in full swing.

Leo and Harry are in summer school. Ellie is in camp and Lucy is...yelling at me and eating a lot of Popsicles.





I am struggling to get here, to this place, to this touchstone that has been my little haven for so many years. The irony is not lost on me, that now that I spending so much time with my children, I don't have as much time to write about them. There is little to no time for reflection. It is tote that barge, lift that bail, make that snack, pack that lunch, load three kids in the car to go pick up one more.

I know this season is short. Temporary. It is also hot and sticky and ripe and loud and silly and messy and excruciating and beautiful and brief. The beautiful is sometimes hard to remember when you are in the middle of it and trying to balance so many things and wants and needs and schedules and your email is chiming because you have a deadline to meet and there are also voices saying "MOMMY" and "MOOOOOMMY" and then you remember that you have to ask someone for the twentieth time, "Do you have to go potty?"



With the boys in school in the morning and Ellie in camp, Lucy and I go on little excursions.



In a few weeks Leo will start camp. Ellie will begin her series of week long speciality camps (science, art, gymnastics). Lucy will finally get HER day ("princess" ballet camp--can you stand it? Because I barely can).



Fourth of July outfits (minus Harry) plus a Turtle.



I have always, always wanted to make a Flag Cake. Mission Accomplished.



Stars + Stripes.



"I need to teach them how to run down a hill!" Said Ellie. Meanwhile I was humming the theme to "Little House on the Prairie."



Leo, rightfully proud of his Super Hero watercolors.





Things don't always go swimmingly for Lucy at the playground.





Cuteness. With a potty photo bomb. Because, of course.

Playing Catch Up: First Day, Last Days, Birthdays and Big News (NOT PREGNANT)

It seems silly to start a post with a recap of Harry's first day of school when the last day of school happened two weeks ago. But. Harry started preschool! And now he's in summer school (which is basically a continuation of the school he started two weeks ago). I think it's safe to say that he is absolutely thrilled with his new student status. He pants in front of the door in the morning waiting for the bus and bounds outside when he sees it pull up. Another bonus? He and Leo get to ride to the same bus (they're attending summer school at the same location). I KNOW. Leo basically explodes every morning he's so thrilled.



Leo finished up fourth grade (meaning next year will be his last year in elementary school, did you hear my heart stopping?) with an end of year choral concert which Lucy and I were lucky enough to attend.



Ellie transformed from a Daisy into a Brownie (see above for the "Bridge" ceremony) and finished first grade. Didn't I just take a half day from work so I could bring her to the kindergarten orientation? GAH. Time, you are a sneaky, sneaky one.



Ellie also had her seventh birthday party (notice how I didn't say she turned seven-yet). That will come next month.



I finally got my act together and planned her party for before the end of the school year (well, technically it was the weekend of the last week of school). People in our town seem to just disappear on the summer weekends, making summer birthdays very sparsely attended.


As you can see the only problem with the party is there just weren't enough baked goods.



Ellie with her "beach" themed goodie bags (they held a shell bracelet, sunglasses, a mini-beach ball and of course, cookies). I tried really hard to not go all junky with the goodie bags. I HATE the crap that so often comes home from parties: trinkets that break before they even leave the car on the ride home, that I end up finding sprinkled all over the back of the mini van. Also, candy that no one needs (but we all need chocolate chip cookies, of course!).


Harry, (who apparently knows how to break dance-who knew?) made good use of his sunglasses.

For some reason I was very nervous about having a party at home (well, a party in general but an at-home one raises the stakes a bit). I wanted to make it very simple and of course it got more complicated than I set out for it to be, (there may have been some last minute ridiculous amounts of money spent at Oriental Trading) Let's just not talk about the "express mail" fees, ok? But all in all I'm very happy without how it went. It organically turned into a "mermaid" themed party when I randomly chose an Evite with a mermaid on it while Ellie was at school (I thought it befit a backyard pool party). (She "hand wrote" all of her invites but I wanted to follow-up with something a little more concrete). Ellie ran with the mermaid idea (she LOVED the Evite) and before we knew it I'd ordered mermaid plates, napkins and cups (as an aside I have to pause and extoll the virtues of the Target debit card (they aren't paying me to say this but they can if they'd like to)--anyway, free shipping on all Target items. Seriously the best.


Making their shell frame "craft." I thought this was cute and it went with our "beach/pool/mermaid" theme but I really bought it in case it rained and we were stuck inside.



The girls were semi-into it but it's hard for gluing tiny shells on frames to compete with pools and water sprayers and a playground and Cheeto balls (Ellie asks for these probably every time we see them at Costco and I always say no but for a birthday party? I finally said, YES).





The weather was A-MAZING which, when you're having a backyard "pool" party, that's really half the battle.

Did you know six and seven year old girls scream a lot? And when I say "scream" I mean "OMG THIS IS SO MUCH FUN I JUST HAVE TO SCREAM!!" screams.


Of course Spidey had to make an appearance.

At the end of the party, Ellie announced that it was "probably one of the best days of her life." So. Really can't argue with that one.


Speaking of birthdays, these two actually had their birthday, earlier this month.

Three.





This momentous occasion, this third birthday surviving another year with twins, really warrants its own post (which it will get, preferably before the fourth birthday) but I will interrupt this broadcast with some important breaking news. Lucy and Harry are officially potty trained. And say what you will, but I'm fairly certain that potty training twins will go down as one of my greatest life achievements. Let's just say it wasn't for the faint of heart!

I Want OUT! And Other Things We Heard, Saw and Did This Year in Mystic

Summer wouldn't officially be here for our family without our annual trek to Mystic, Connecticut.

A few days before our road trip I took the van in to have the carseats checked by a professional (yes, four kids in and I still don't trust myself to install them properly). I was mainly concerned about Leo's booster but when the tech noticed Harry and Lucy were still rear facing, we started to talk (she was impressed they were still rear facing since it is technically safer). But then we began talking heights and weights and since they were close to outgrowing their seats in their present position,  it made sense to take care of that while we were there. So, one hour and most of a Lego Batman movie later (thank you, minivan DVD player), voila!


Two officially forward facing, big kids.

We hit the road early on Saturday morning. Lucy has never been what I'd call mellow in the car but I was really hoping the novelty of the forward facing would help.

No dice.

Three minutes into New York State and Lucy was shrieking, "I WANT OUT!!"

It was just as relaxing as it sounds.

We stopped in Connecticut to use the restroom and let the kids get their shakes out. We taught them the art of relay racing (not the firing squad that it appears).



It calmed Lucy. For about three minutes.

Side note: I had to laugh at us the night before we left, as we ran around the house like the proverbial chickens, throwing clothes and toys and swim goggles into tote bags. We were going away for One. Night. The scene reminded me of the beginning of "Home Alone"--which takes place the night before a large family is leaving for a trip to Paris. So I had only one goal really, for this year's trip to Mystic: to not forget any of our children.

Newsflash: It's hard traveling with many small children. Really it only takes one miserable child (not mentioning any names) to make the whole thing challenging. But in certain moments, all the hard stuff, all the whining and struggling and cajoling and haggling all falls away.



Our first stop when we hit town was Abbots, our favorite Mystic (technically in nearby Noank) restaurant. Its location on the water (coupled with its lobster rolls and lobster chowder) is truly transporting--it screams "Vacation!" even if you do have to eat your lobster roll while you are chasing around an almost three year old and keeping her from landing head first in the water.






If these two pictures of the kids and me aren't the quintessential shots of being a mom of four kids then I don't know what is. (My favorite part of the picture below is Leo, by the way). And notice how Lucy is getting set to go rogue and refusing to look at the camera? Yup.



I always aim for little, transcendental moments when we travel with the children. For me, that came after lunch, at the hotel pool. Everyone was tired and stir crazy from the car time. But all we had to do was add a little water and soon, all four (all six actually) were in bliss. We had the pool to ourselves for a while--allowing Leo to cannon ball off the side to his heart's content, while Ellie practiced her back stroke. Erin and I took turns throwing twins around the pool (Lucy squealed "I want to do that AGAIN!" about ninety-seven times).

The big plan for a nice dinner at another favorite local restaurant was foiled by an unnamed, non-napped preschooler. Needless to say what began as an "early dinner" quickly became "Uh...can we actually get that to go?" Cheese pizzas and Greeks salads and spaghetti and meatballs were quickly wrapped and it was "home" to our hotel room where the kids picnicked on beach towels and I (out of desperation) paid more to RENT "The Lego Movie" than it costs to buy the DVD. Best money we've spent in a looooong time.

I'll skip the part about the pretty torturous night in a hotel room with twin two year olds (complete with a 1 a.m. wake up due to drunk wedding revelers in the hallway outside our room). It was everything you would imagine it to be.

Oh but I do have to share this.

Poor Leo is afraid of the dark. At home he sleeps with a lamp on in his room. He pleaded with us to leave a reading lamp in the hotel room on. WAY too bright. We agreed to leave the light in the bathroom on AND the door open. He was not satisfied with that compromise. Which is why this trip to Mystic will be remembered as the One When Leo Slept In the Bathtub. I'll once again use the line that sums up our family: Can't. Make. This. Stuff. Up.

Needless to say, we all survived, as we always seem to. There was hot, dark roast venti-sized Starbucks in the morning (shouldn't all hotels have a Starbucks in the lobby?), along with a breakfast buffet complete with strawberries and whipped cream (of course Lucy fell off her chair in the middle of breakfast). Par for the course.

After breakfast came the moment we'd all been waiting for:


Visiting an old friend, the beluga whale at the Mystic Aquarium.


We took our annual picture in front of the penguin statue. Notice anything different about this one? No stroller! This is the first trip we've taken as a family of six wherein no stroller was used. Hooray! And also, EEK!

You know what else was pretty cool?





On our way out of town we finally got to meet Abby and her family. Her mom Cate writes one of the first DS blogs I ever read (hers was one that inspired me to start writing my own). I can't believe I've "known" her now for six years--when we first connected, Abby and Leo were toddlers. Now look at these giant big kids.


Until next time, Mystic. Our goals for when we do return are mighty: Dinner AT a restaurant, sitting  at a table, perhaps? And sleeping through the night in beds. Oh we ask for SO MUCH!

Last Days Before Pre-K: Harry Edition

In a little over a month, I will do something I have never done before. I will spend my mornings with ONE three year old. (Hi, Lucy!).

Harry is starting preschool. That's right, cue the strings to "Sunrise, Sunset."


Taking pictures of my sleeping "babies." It just never gets old. But they do. SOB!

I won't bore you with the long drawn out story of why Harry is starting school this summer and Lucy is starting this fall. The short version is Harry will be going to a program through our town's school district geared toward encouraging language and speech articulation and it starts in June (as part of the academic year's "extended year program.") Ironically, his language has been exploding lately--I timed that well as it seemed to take off right after his evaluation--but the added stimulation of an early preschool program (bonus: separate from Lucy) will be amazing for him, I think.

The plan had always been to put Harry and Lucy into preschool in June but then I went and got laid off and, well, life happened. The urgency to get Lucy into school wasn't there anymore since I would be home to do things with her (Costco and Target=Super Education-ha ha-oops I mean, library toddler story time! And nature walks! And finger painting!). Plus, the big kids will be around some this summer and nobody but nobody knows how to play with and entertain Lucy better than Ellie, the World's Best Preschooler Wrangler. And, I'll admit it. I don't feel rushed about preschool. I'm suddenly getting nostalgic (shocking, I realize). About my almost-three-year olds. I KNOW.

I've spent the last almost four months plotting ways to get three, seven, nine minutes to myself and suddenly, the moment is upon me. The enormity of the fact that in a little over three months, for a few hours a day, ALL THE CHILDREN WILL BE IN SCHOOL.

It's the whole, be careful what you wish for phenomenon. Don't get me wrong. I have plenty to do. Namely, work! I am for now (knock on wood) working nicely and steadily from home these days.




It's barely three hours a day. But I'm going to miss my little Batman (he zooms around the house now and proclaims himself so). And I'm reminded of that strange transition and adjustment that occurs when your little one suddenly develops a life away from you. It happened early on with Leo and Ellie because I spent so much time away from home, working. But this time, it's different. And with two at the same time? It's really different.



Speaking of time: Harry and Lucy turn three on Sunday. THREE! Wasn't I just hugely pregnant? And then wasn't I just strapped to the loveseat breastfeeding two! babies! six hours a day?





And away, they go.

On Having it "Never Be Okay"

My mom, Eleanor, circa late 1990s.

I'm not really sad anymore on Mother's Day, which sure is a refreshing change from all those teary, Woe is me, let's have a glass of wine at 1 p.m. Mother's Days of years gone by. It's been fourteen years of not having a mom here and by this time, having my mother to fuss over and take out to brunch and buy peonies for just feels completely foreign and "other" to me. It just isn't my reality and hasn't been for a loooong time. 

I plug along. She is in my thoughts some days but I'm almost surprised to admit (and a little ashamed) that on many she is not. There was a time I don't think I could have ever imagined that I would honestly write that sentence. But there it is.

And then the other day I read this, by Cheryl Strayed:

"It will never be okay," a friend who lost her mom in her teens said to me a couple of years ago. "It will never be okay that our mothers are dead."

...Our moms had been dead for ages. We were both writers with kids of our own now. We had good relationships and fulfilling careers. And yet the unadorned truth of what she'd said--it will never be okay--entirely unzipped me.

It will never be okay, and yet, there we were, the two of us more than okay, both of us happier and luckier than anyone has a right to be. You could describe either one of us as "joy on wheels" though there isn't one good thing that has happened to either of us that we haven't experienced through the lens of our grief. I'm not talking about weeping and wailing every day (though sometimes we did that). I'm talking about what goes on inside, the words unspoken, the shaky quake at the body's core. There was no mother at our college graduations. There was no mother at our weddings. There was no mother when we sold our first books. There was no mother when our children were born. There was no mother, ever, at any turn for either one of us in our entire adult lives and there never will be.

And that's the truth. It will never be okay that Eleanor never got to meet Ellie. That she never got to eat scrambled eggs with Leo or push a ridiculously giant double stroller housing two (two!) wailing newborns down our treelined New Jersey street. 

 

And it will never be okay that my mom never go to meet Erin, but I will always be so glad that in a brave moment during one of our many afternoon phone calls (she in Oregon, me, away at graduate school in New York City) I decided to tell her about this new person that I'd only been dating for a handful of months. And because of that, for the rest of my life I’ll have a printed out email from my mom that says simply, "I'm glad you have Erin." Boy, was she right.

And the fact that it's not okay? Serves as a counterpoint to all the unbelievably wonderful and beautiful things in my life: Leo's hugs, and the way he throws his arms around my waist and holds onto me with his very soul, Ellie's witticisms and the way she will just look at me in the middle of dinner and say "Can we snuggle?" Harry's chocolate brown eyes and the way he leans in to give me a sloppy kiss and then declares, "That's a juicy one!" Lucy's blonde ringlets and watching her drink milk from a straw and eat peanut butter and strawberry jam with as much satisfaction as one would garner from drinking a glass of Pol Roger and eating Malpeque oysters. 

There is just so much beauty and joy and grace and hilarity in my life now, that the "not okayness," feels somehow easier and harder (if that makes any sense at all). Easier because I'm so busy with all these children! And my life is so full! And yet, she's missing all these children. And all this fullness. But. That is just the way it is.

 

There are so many things my mom and I never got to talk about. I was twenty seven when she died, and at that point, becoming a mother myself was the farthest thing in my mind. Who knows if I'm right, but to this day, I think one of her greatest worries for me was that I would never become a mother.

Of course now we all have a good laugh over that one. I hope my mom is laughing too.