Sprung

What everyone is wearing this spring: Calves.



The first day of spring. After the winter that wasn't.



This picture reminded me a little of this one (scroll all the way to the bottom of that post to see photo I'm referring to). Hard to believe it's been almost a year. With the weather suddenly warmer, my thoughts turn to last year at this time. Huge, swollen, slightly miserable, itchy and only two kids to contend with. Life's a little different now.

And life's about to get different again. After almost a year home, I'm going back to work next week. I cannot believe nearly a year has gone by. I've been in a baby bubble, a twin time warp. Pick your cliche. I'm excited. I'm nervous. Suddenly all the things that have driven me batty about being home (the endless, relentless laundry, the screeching babies, the whining big kids) leave me shrugging. Eh. I can handle it. But of course, it's also bittersweet. I won't be taking care of babies all day every day (relief!) but also? I won't be taking care of babies all day every day. The grass is always greener, and all of that.

In case you haven't noticed, I don't handle change all that well. I'm getting better, and I have tools to handle things better than I used to but I'm prepared for some bumps. It's been my experience that kids and babies are fairly adaptable--usually way more so than grown-ups who tend to over think things. "I find the anticipation of change much more challenging than the change itself," --words from a wise friend--is my mantra these days.


Good thing I have such a great little crew at home to cheer me on.

It Gets Better: Alternatively Titled, Don't Fall Asleep at the Drive-Thru

OK, OK, I didn't fall asleep. I placed my order (large hazelnut coffee with cream and bagel if you must know). Took my order. And forgot to leave.

The confused man at the pick-up window opened his sliding glass window and said "Ma'am? Can I help you with something?"

"Oh!" I smiled and reached down to put the car into drive. Right! Time to go. Hey, at least I didn't forget one of the babies somewhere. I seriously worry about that all the time. Check my rear view mirror constantly. Still there. Still there. It was also just last week that I drove down the street before I realized I'd left the stroller on the curb. Again, babies were safe in the car (pfew!).
***
I meet them everywhere: The moms of twins. At Target and the park and Shoprite and the community center where Ellie takes classes. "It gets better," they all say to me, gazing down at my two with nods of pity and recognition. "Mine are seven now," says the carefree, well-rested mom with the smooth, freshly blown out hair and the crip, tasteful, stain free outfit. "Mine are twenty now," laughs another. "They're hardly any trouble at all!"

At the same time, in nine short (or some might say long) months, we have come SO far. We are no longer the newbies. Last week while I was waiting for Ellie at ballet I saw a mom with the telltale Gigantic Ridiculous Stroller. She was cradling one baby (two weeks? Two months? Hard to tell with twin babies). But little. The other baby was sleeping. They were tiny, squishy and not an ounce of me envied this mom in any way. I looked over at Harry and Lucy, looking practically like teenagers, compared to the newborns, Harry kicking his rotund little legs, Lucy looking around wide-eyed at the four year old girls in their pink ballet dresses.

Maybe someday I'll look back at those early days fondly and with wistfulness, but for now? I just feel like we survived.
***
It's been a little rough around here the last few days. Harry ruined my Oscar party on Sunday night (OK it was just Erin and me but still, I am the nerd who wakes up the morning of the Oscars and says "Only fifteen hours 'till the Oscars!). No matter that I'd seen exactly one nominated movie (setting a personal record for the fewest Oscar nominated movies seen in one year--I'll give you two guesses why). Back to Harry. Poor dude went to bed warm and woke up hot--103.5. So proceeded a long night of cool bathes and Tylenol and very little sleep. The next day came the news of a double ear infection. It's so Harry. Our little drama guy. Poor little man can't just get an ear infection. He has to spike a giant, ugly fever that won't stay down.

He's better today, knock on wood, but still clearly pretty miserable.
***
I think one of the hardest thing about having babies is all that time spent at home. Don't get me wrong. I love home, but sometimes it gets to be a bit much. I know myself and my mental health is so much better when I get out. At least once a day. Bonus if the getting "out" means time spent outside. In the fresh air.

And yesterday, that's just what we did. It was another laughably beautiful and mild "winter" day here (sunny and 55 degrees in February, yes it's true). Oh sure it wasn't until 1:30 that we actually got out of the house, but out of the house we were.
Ellie, a true child of the suburbs thought it was just delightful that we were able to walk to run an errand (pick up dry cleaning).

No folks, we sure aren't in Brooklyn anymore, but still, a walk is a walk. And I am all for the avoidance of the lugging and schlepping of babies and children in and out of the car.


And no, those photos aren't staged. The babies hold hands every chance they get. And I melt every time.

Fairy Wings and French Toast, Anniversaries and New Chapters

What, you don't wear fairy wings while eating breakfast? Well you are missing out!

This morning dawned early in our house (as usual). Erin had suggested we get up early to watch The Wedding (as if I need to link to it, cause you might not know which wedding I was referring to). My response was, if I'm up, I'll watch it. I'm all for the enormity of the event (and William and Kate happened to have picked a pretty special date in our family too, seeing as ten years ago today, Erin and I also exchanged vows, though ours were decidedly less publicized). I'm a romantic, but sleep is precious these days. Interrupting it = Danger. But wouldn't you know it, I was up. I mean, what are the odds? (Um, darn good, actually.)

We told Ellie a few days ago there was to be a wedding with a real princess (OK, duchess, whatever). She appeared mildly interested, at the idea. But this morning, at 6 a.m. when she stumbled in, squinty eyed and ruffled hair, it only took her about three minutes to demand a "kid show." This real princess business just wasn't cutting it.

In other today in history news, I won't be back to work for a while. It feels surreal. I am seriously switching gears and I'll admit it. I'm a little scared. Excited, but scared. But I know that it's time. The few days I've had off in the last few months, I've noticed a change in my energy level and mood, as well as my patience quota (which these days is key). And I'm not going to lie. Being able to take an afternoon nap if I need it is not going to hurt my cause. I went to the doctor yesterday and at 32 weeks, I'm measuring full-term. Whoa.

Also, I need to make sense of this:*

And no, it's not a screen shot from a new episode of "Baby Hoarders," it's the future nursery (and believe me, this is the forgiving, flattering, you don't look fat in this at all angle).

*Notice the baby doll in the bouncy chair on the left? That's Ellie's doing. She is absolutely LOVING all this new "real" baby paraphernalia.